CHECKMATE
by SammieRose28
Summary: The Queen is by much the most powerful of the forces - Howard Staunton. With an alliance in mind, Arwyn is sent to Camelot with the hopes that her affections may be won; but the trials of the heart soon grow complicated with a long line of enemies to the crown and an impatient King who desires nothing more than his son's share of her kingdom.
1. EXTENDED SUMMARY

_The Queen is by much the most powerful of the forces - Howard Staunton_

Arwyn was very much a political pawn, as many noble young women before her, despite her unconventional attitudes. With an unbreakable alliance in mind, her father sends her to Camelot with the hopes that her affections may be won; but the trials of the heart soon grow complicated with a long line of enemies to the crown and an impatient King who desires nothing more than his son's share of her kingdom.

Every move is a power-play in the race for the crown and Arwyn soon learns that ignorance is no longer bliss. In a world of magic and love, she plays a larger role than her stubborn naivety would allow and as her destiny and those around her dictate to whom she should hand her heart, she had better pray that she can protect her king before they're caught in checkmate.


	2. CHAPTER 1

_Author's note:_

 _So this is the first chapter of Checkmate, set during The Dragon's Call. Please let me know your thoughts! I have a lot planned for Arwyn so I hope you love her as much as I do (:_

Disclaimer: I do not own BBC's Merlin, their characters nor their plot. I do however own the Princess Arwyn and Sir Geralt. Their character and story arcs remain my intellectual property.

She wasn't sure how to feel as her horse galloped through the forest on the way to Camelot. They had been on the road for many weeks and so she grew weary and slightly bored of the trees and the streams that littered the forest. She felt homesick each time that her hand grazed the pin that clasped at her cloak and anxious as she considered her new life. The sun shone through the bark as it rose higher in the sky, illuminating her blue-green eyes. The horse sighed in protest as her gloved hands tugged at his reins and he was brought to a gentle walk, allowing her muscles to ease and her attendant to catch up. She had always been a fast rider, ever since her mother had first placed her on a horse at the tender age of three. Glancing with a gentle smile to the older man with the dark hair, she allowed their horses to walk side by side until they finally saw the gates to the kingdom.

Her jaw dropped slightly as she removed the hood of her cloak, allowing her brunette waves to cascade down her shoulders. Camelot was more beautiful than her father had described. The streets of the lower town were full of people, each who welcomed her with a 'good morning' and a courteous bow to which she replied with a gracious smile. As her horse trotted closer to the castle, her stomach churned and her anxiety grew.

"Are you alright, My Lady?" A gruff voice asked from in front of her.

"Just nervous." She muttered, realising that she had stopped and promptly nudging the sides of the stallion with her heels.

"Nervous?" The older man chuckled, "Nervous was when I met my first Dragon, thirty years ago! You're just anxious." Her guard dismissed before smiling reminiscently. "Oh, and what a hunt it was..."

"Yes, yes. You were very brave..." The young lady sighed rolling her eyes, "I told you that the first forty times that I heard that story."

"It was your favourite as a child." The knight continued, his northern accent rife. "You were always one for tales of adventure."

A chorus of laughter soon caught her attention as she drew nearer to the archway that led to the castle courtyard and manoeuvred Falen around the wooden carts; the black stallion drawing gazes from the bustling servants and villagers. Her eyes narrowed as she found the circle of knights and watched a blonde-haired man – no older than herself – throwing knives at a shield and cackling as the boy ran back and forth.

"Don't." The older man beside her warned, his words caught by the scarred gap on his top lip as his mare came to a standstill beside her. Fighting against a subtle smile as the stubborn young woman rolled her eyes and returned her gaze to the scene in front of them, he dismounted.

Reaching forward to stroke Falen's pitch black mane, she observed as another serving boy intervened. As the raven-haired boy removed his foot from the target, the young woman's stare remained secured to their interactions – or lack thereof as the blonde scoffed and refused the offered handshake. As her innate curiosity took over, she nudged the stallion forward prompting her escort to warn her once more.

"Tell me, Merlin, do you know how to walk on your knees?" Asked the boy who appeared to possess the perfect concoction of arrogance to accompany his superiority complex. "Would you like me to help you?"

The gentle breeze tousled her long curls as she tossed them over her shoulder and brought Falen to a halt as the village boy retorted: "I wouldn't if I were you." Causing her to roll her eyes at his stupidity, regardless of how brave it may have been.

The young man laughed smugly as he turned back to the knights, almost as if checking for their support: "Why? What are you going to do to me?" He challenged with the tilt of his head before proceeding to taunt the poor boy who swiftly swung his fist towards the blonde's face causing her to cringe as he had his arm twisted behind his back. "I'll have you thrown in jail for that."

"What, who do you think you are? The King?" The boy named Merlin scoffed despite his position of weakness.

"No. I'm his son, Arthur."

The young brunette watched a pair of guards drag Merlin away and an expression of malcontent coated her usually kind features as she disappointingly realised that the young man in front of her was in fact the prince. Her chaperon helped her dismount the beautiful black stallion as the skirt of her emerald dress floated elegantly to the floor cradled by the long dark green cloak and a horrible feeling settled in her stomach. She was not going to fit in here.

"Was that entirely necessary?" She shouted, unwilling to allow the mistreatment to pass unchallenged as she marched towards the Prince with infamous determination causing her companion to sigh and tighten the belt that cradled his weapons – preparing to intervene if necessary.

"And you are...?" The blonde smirked, looking back to his knights who chuckled. His blue eyes snapped to her as she stopped in front of him.

"Someone who is concerned about the future for Camelot if standing up for another is enough to be thrown in jail."

"You can't talk to him like that. You would do well to treat the Prince with some respect." A knight piped up.

"And you would do well to remember your place." Her companion stepped out from behind her, his dark eyes narrowed as his hand grasped the hilt of his sword. The men in front of them almost visibly shrunk as they viewed the battle scars that mangled his stern expression. "The Princess is very tolerant. I, however, am not."

"It's alright, Sir Geralt." The girl smiled softly as she patted the knight's arm who bowed his head and obediently took a step backwards.

Arthur's eyes widened as he took in the larger man's words: "Princess?" He asked the brunette in front of him as her gaze returned to him.

"Oh, so you do have a working set of ears." She retorted in feigned surprise. "Perhaps you should use them to listen to the needs of your people, rather than ridiculing those you deem to be below you."

The Prince's mouth gaped open to defend but he found himself speechless as the girl turned on her heel and walked towards the entrance of the castle, Sir Geralt on her tail. His gaze lingered and a frown creased his brow as he watched a child approach the young woman causing her to crouch down to eye level. A soft smile graced her lips as she accepted the purple wildflower, placing it in her hair as the little boy beamed with pride.

"Sire, your father requests you in the throne room." A knight spoke, "You are late to receive the princess."

"It gives me the greatest pleasure to welcome Her Royal Highness, Princess Arwyn of the Distant Isles." The King announced as he rose from his throne, a smile gracing his greying face as the young girl approached. "Her presence here aims to strengthen the bonds forged between our two kingdoms, perhaps to an unbreakable alliance." As the court applauded, Arwyn's anxiety eased gently. "Why, I haven't seen you since you were but six years old and you have only grown in beauty." The man smiled fondly as Arwyn curtsied. "You may not remember my son, Arthur." He added, beckoning the boy forward who bowed as he placed a chaste kiss across her knuckles. "And my ward, Morgana." The girls smiled politely to one another before the King continued. "Camelot is now your home and we wish to make you feel welcome. Anything I can do for you, do not be afraid to ask. I shall have a handmaiden assigned to your service and Sir Geralt assigned to the knights."

"I wish for Sir Geralt to remain in my charge. However, should the work arise, he will be at your service." Arwyn stated, her head held high as she addressed the King who nodded. Her heart jumped slightly as she carefully considered her next words. Taking a deep breath, she glanced to the Prince before straightening her shoulders with an authority that her father had encouraged her to exude. "And, one more thing...There's a boy in your dungeons. I want him released." The court fell silent for a moment as the King surveyed the bold young woman in front of him. A soft smile made its way onto the court physician's face as a frown crowded the Prince's. "Sire, I apologise if I speak out of turn but I do not believe that the boy deserves to rot in jail for defending a man against your bully of a son." Arwyn continued, her sea green eyes glancing to Arthur who was staring at her with an expression of contempt. "Do not punish him for showing empathy. Instead, punish him for the disrespectful manner with which he spoke to his future King."

"I see that you have not outgrown your compassion, your mother would be proud." Uther spoke as he rubbed his jawline with a gloved hand and the Princess muttered a saddened thank you that had not gone unnoticed by the irked prince that watched every move that his opponent made. "And what would you have me do with the boy?"

Arwyn thought for a moment, "Send him to the stocks for the afternoon and give the children the food that would have gone to waste."

"Father!" Arthur exclaimed as the King nodded and ordered Gaius and the guards to fetch the prisoner.

"Arthur, escort the Princess to her living quarters." Uther commanded before looking to his son, "And try not to disappoint her any further."

The young man's jaw tensed as he bowed his head in respect to his father before descending the steps and offering his arm to the small brunette who remained planted to her spot. As the pair stared defiantly at each other, Sir Geralt nudged the young princess and muttered a warning under his breath, prompting her to sigh and accept the prince's arm.

"Merlin! You never cease to amaze me." Gaius scolded as he entered the cell. "The one thing someone like you should do is keep their head down and what do you do? You behave like an idiot!"

The boy looked down at his feet, gulping: "I'm sorry."

"You're lucky. Somehow you have earned the favour of the princess and she has requested that you be released."

A wide grin consumed his face, "Really? I have the favour of a princess!"

"Yes, so don't spoil it." Gaius warned with a deep frown as he turned to leave, "Oh, and there is a small price to pay."

The silence was deafening as the young royals made their way through the castle gardens. Arwyn would have commented on the beauty of the roses or the tranquillity as the bees buzzed around the bushes and the water ran through the fountain but she didn't utter a word. Sighing, she glanced sideways at Arthur whilst he stared straight ahead. Surveying his neutral expression, she noted the tired look in his eyes as the breeze messed his blonde hair.

"What?" He sighed turning his head to look at her as she snapped her gaze back to the fountain in front of them.

"Nothing." Arwyn muttered, sliding her arm out of his and running her hands through her hair with a sigh as she remained in step with him. She glanced behind her to Sir Geralt with an expression of helplessness, however the knight offered nothing but a passive expression in response as the corners of his mouth threatened to tip upwards in amusement.

Arthur's crystal blue eyes turned to her as her gaze lingered on the flowers. He watched as her hair danced with the wind and the sun grazed the top of her pale cheekbones and button nose. The innocence that shone through her eyes could fool any man and that made the prince especially wary.

The remainder of the walk was agonisingly quiet as the pair concentrated on trying to understand the other's motives whilst avoiding eye contact. As they re-entered the castle, Arthur gently guided her elbow with a sigh as she turned in the wrong direction.

"Arwyn!" A soft voice rang out, visibly making the princess relax as she turned to face Morgana. "I was going to ask if you wanted to get ready for tomorrow's feast with me? My handmaiden Gwen agreed to help both of us as your quarters are next to mine."

"I would really like that, actually." Arwyn grinned, a slightly breathless laugh parting her lips as the prince noticed her relief. "Thank you."

"Perfect! I'll see you later." The taller brunette smiled kindly as she turned, her deep blue dress swirling like the ocean before she departed.

As the prince offered his arm once more, the princess stepped closer to him to accept and they descended into silence as Arwyn's eyes took in every detail of the palace. Each footstep echoed in the corridor as she concentrated on hiding her anxiety, focussed on not holding his arm too tight and wanted nothing more than to hop on Falen and run for the hills. They soon came to a stop outside a large wooden door.

"Here you are. Morgana's room is just next door, should you need anything."

Arthur informed as he took her hand in his own and bowed, placing a chaste kiss on her knuckles before turning to leave. As her chaperone sent her a stern expression whilst he passed to check the room was in order, a soft sigh escaped her and she reached forward to catch the prince's arm, forcing him to turn back to her with a quizzical expression.

"I'm sorry...Sire." Arwyn apologised softly, her head tilted slightly to the left as she looked up at him, chewing the inside of her lip. As he stepped closer to her, she released him and crossed her arms defensively against her body. "Not for the way I spoke to you, because you deserved that. I mean, who throws knives at their servant as a form of entertainment?"

"I'm not sure you understand how an apology works." Arthur interrupted, an eyebrow raised and his gaze wandering across her face as a small smile graced it.

"Well you didn't let me finish." She retorted. "I'm not sorry for the way I spoke to you or for asking your father to release the boy..." She reiterated before sighing, glancing to her hands and then back into his eyes. "I am sorry for embarrassing you in front of the court, that was cruel but necessary regardless of my opinion of you, first impressions count and I need to be seen to have a voice in court."

Silence engulfed them once more as the Prince looked her up and down, trying to measure the young woman in front of him and concluding that behind the soft features and the vulnerability in her eyes, there was a tenacity that was often underestimated.

"I understand your position." Arthur nodded, "I am sorry for the awful impression I have left but in court my voice needs to be heard and I cannot be undermined regardless of how sympathetic you feel towards a peasant." He noticed a flash of annoyance scar her eyes but Arwyn remained still with her chin raised obstinately until the future king bowed his head, only releasing the breath that she had been holding as he turned his back and made his way down the whitened corridor.

Groaning she pressed her head against the door only to have it swing open a moment later, catching her by surprise as she nearly tumbled into Sir Geralt.

"Your Highness, if I may offer my counsel." The knight began as she absentmindedly ran her fingers along the bed post. "You ought to be careful. Your father may allow you a lot a leeway regarding your duties as a Princess but I fear that King Uther may not be as lenient so do not push him. Or Arthur."

"I apologised."

"That was not an apology." Geralt chuckled, "Try to remember that you are in a precarious situation and you will require the prince's support. So, behave yourself."

"I'm sure Arthur and Morgana do not have to deal with their knights continually scolding them..." She hummed distractedly as she opened the window.

"I'm sure Arthur and Morgana do not cross the line as often as you do. Pardon me, My Lady, but you have as much talent at finding trouble as a fly does at finding a corpse." The man chuckled, smiling fondly at the young royal that he had been charged to care for since her naming day.

Arwyn frowned at the expression before turning to look at the gruff man: "Why must you be so morbid?"

"Would my Lady like to hear the story of the time my companions were eaten by ghouls?" A rare grin crossed his scarred face as the young girl looked repulsed.

"No! Anything but that story!" Arwyn protested, shuddering: "It is by far the worst."

"And most memorable!" Geralt boomed. "Now, get some rest before the feast, tomorrow. Perhaps, the courtiers would like to hear the story..." He mused as he left the room, chuckling as his Princess protested through the newly shut door.

Rolling over in bed, she threw her head back onto the pillow and blew the loose curl that landed atop of her nose. After a few hours of attempting to sleep, she remained very much awake and so decided to admit defeat and changed into a much lighter gown. A gentle knock at the door caught her attention as she pulled a comb through her unruly curls.

"Come in!"

"Sorry to disturb you, My Lady." The older man that she recognised as Gaius, the court physician bowed lightly. "I wanted to thank you for your kindness towards Merlin, this morning. It can't have been easy standing against the Prince in front of the King."

"It appears that your friend and I have a lot in common when it comes to dealing with the Prince."

Gaius smiled, "I brought you some books." The physician continued, piquing her interest. "When you visited Camelot as a child, you had a love of learning."

Arwyn smiled as she gracefully took the books from the man. "Thank you, Gaius. I only vaguely remember being in Camelot..." The princess pondered absentmindedly as her sea-green eyes glided across the book covers.

"You were but a child. It was much before your mother passed..." Gaius watched as a sadness flitted across her look of concentration before smiling fondly. "When you weren't causing trouble with Arthur, you had your nose stuck in one of my books."

"I hope you can forgive me for forgetting you." Arwyn smiled sheepishly prompting the man to chuckle and nod. Her dress grazed the floor as she wandered to the open window and looked across the kingdom and into the lower town. "It all seems so unfamiliar...I don't much recall being friends with someone so...entitled." She muttered, "If first impressions are anything to go on, he values nothing more than his crown."

"Arthur has changed a lot since you were both young, he has a lot of responsibility and as the future king, his father expects a lot of him. Perhaps he just needs someone to see past the crown."

"Do those responsibilities include swinging a mace at Merlin?" The brunette hummed as she watched the lower town.

"What?!"

The look of anger on Gaius' face was almost amusing as he excused himself and marched the raven-haired boy back to the castle by the scruff of his red tunic. Arwyn fought back a smile as she thought of the audacity that the young man possessed. Her father had been exceptionally lenient on her and simply allowed her wild spirit to roam free and so the young princess had never been one for titles, very much believing that nobility had nothing to do with birth-right and she suspected that was why she felt a kinship with the boy that was bold enough to stand against the torment that Arthur seemed to pride himself in.

As the gentle afternoon breeze waltzed with the baby blue material of her dress, she greeted each villager that passed her in the town. A smile graced her face as she watched the children chase each other whilst squealing and running away, they reminded her of her days climbing the wall that circled her kingdom and climbing the trees in the forest with Jon, the baker's son who had been her best friend.

"You shouldn't be out without a guard." A familiar voice rung out from behind, prompting her to roll her eyes.

"I can see that..." She retorted, turning to face the blue-eyed prince. Stepping close to him, she whispered, "Better alert the guards, there's a royal idiot attacking villagers with a mace." Pursing her pink lips, she raised an eyebrow challengingly at him causing a light scoff to escape him as she patted his chest before turning on her heel, almost hitting him in the face with her long dark hair. Arthur stood for a moment in awe before sighing and jogging to catch up with her. Glancing sideways as he fell into step with her, Arwyn recalled her knight's previous warnings and so she sighed and looked forward once more. "I wasn't alone. I was with the court physician." Her tone softened lightly as she turned back to him, smiling as a little girl curtsied at her feet. Arthur nodded in understanding, watching the princess return the curtsy much to the little girl's delight. "It's sweet that you care, though." She proceeded to tease with a smirk.

"Oh, I don't." Arthur interjected, a much larger scoff escaping him as he adjusted the black leather that gloved his hands. Rolling his eyes slightly, he moved his gaze from the path to the princess, studying her expression although she wasn't giving much away: "You don't have a very high opinion of me."

The princess paused and turned to face him as he nearly walked into her: "I have a feeling that runs both ways." She spoke carefully, her eyes slightly narrowed as she comprehended his expression. "Our fathers will be so disappointed." She gasped melodramatically as a subtle smile ghosted across Arthur's face.

They walked in a comfortable silence back towards the castle. The grounds buzzing as people went about their daily schedules. Repetitively glancing at one another, the young royals were left to their thoughts as the afternoon sunshine danced across their faces until a ruckus in the stables drew their attention. As a loud whinny erupted through the protests, Arwyn sighed softly in recognition before picking up her pace and rushing towards the wooden structure as a plump boy ran out.

"My Lady! Thank goodness!" The stable hand shouted as he rushed over with a quick bow. "Your horse...he's gone crazy. He won't let me near him."

As a look of concern adorned across her brow, she stepped into the stable with Arthur on her heel; her eyes catching sight of the black stallion as he bucked and reared, prompting the prince the grasp her wrist in his hand.

"Be careful."

"I thought you didn't care?" She smirked in jest before gently pulling away from him and stepping forward with her hands raised. Falen reared up once more, kicking at everything causing both the stable hand and Arthur to tense but everything soon fell silent as the young woman whispered his name. The horse's ears perked as he appeared to look at her before resting his hooves on the ground, his deep brown eyes still widened in fear. Arthur watched intently as Arwyn reached a hand out and beckoned the stallion towards her, amazed as the fearful animal immediately stepped out of his stall and placed his nose to her tiny hand, almost bowing in the process. The sun radiated off her as she smiled softly, "See? It's alright." She whispered, her gaze wandering to the prince and then to the stable hand, "What's your name?"

"Tyr Seward, My Lady."

"Come here, Tyr." As the plump boy stepped forward, Arwyn took his hand and lightly placed it on Falen's snout, the horse backing away for a moment but soon returning to his Lady's hand. "He's just nervous, it's a strange place with strange people and different rules...it's going to take a lot to get used to." Tyr nodded as he stroked the horse's mane, a smile taking over his reddened face as Arthur watched the sadness in Arwyn's eyes and knew that the words she had spoken for the horse, were referring to herself. It was almost as if Falen picked up on his princess' despair as he nuzzled her chin forcing her to smile as she nudged him away. Silence passed between them as the stable boy finished mucking out and dismissed himself.

"You didn't have Merlin arrested." She stated.

"Couldn't risk bringing further disappointment to the princess. My father would have had me thrown in the dungeons beside him." Arthur muttered in jest causing her to meet his gaze with smile that grew into a laugh forcing the prince to grin, despite himself. "The boy may be stupid but he's brave." He continued as Falen nudged him, whilst he watched the princess intently.

"He likes you." Arwyn hummed softly as she watched Falen nuzzle the prince's hand before she went back to toying with the stubborn stallion's mane. "It's a shame really, he usually has good taste."

"He can't have, if he likes you."

The next day, the entire castle was preparing for the feast to celebrate twenty years since Uther had captured to Great Dragon and supposedly freed the land from the evil that is sorcery. Arwyn did not believe that there was anything to celebrate especially after her new handmaiden, Meredith, alerted her to the execution that had taken place the morning before she arrived. To the girl, the festivities seemed to be poorly placed and rather insensitive to the family that were no doubt grieving for the loss of their son or brother.

A soft sigh parted her lips as Meredith twisted and teased her hair, pinning half of it up and securing it with a diamond clasp. The handmaiden sang softly as she worked with the long dark curls, setting them beautifully in place.

"You look beautiful, my Lady." The blonde smiled as she stepped backwards, allowing the princess to stand. Arwyn smiled slightly as she glanced at herself in the mirror, hands nervously smoothing the dark blue velvet as her eyes trailed over the black halter neck that spanned down to rest just below her shoulders as it trimmed the long dark blue sleeves. A nauseous feeling settled in her stomach as she felt herself pale. "Are you alright, my Lady?"

"Yes, thank you." She responded with a tight-lipped smile before moving towards the door, her dress grazing the tiles. "You may have the rest of the day off and if you wish, you may attend feast."

As the maid gushed with gratitude, Arwyn made her way to the chambers next door. Taking a deep breath before knocking lightly. There was a slight shuffle before the door swung open to reveal a beautiful young serving girl with dark brown eyes and an olive complexion.

"My Lady." She bowed with a smile, "I'm Gwen, the Lady Morgana's maid."

Arwyn smiled kindly to the girl, assuring her that there was no need for formal titles around her. As Morgana changed her dress a couple of times, the princess enjoyed listening to Guinevere's stories about life as the blacksmith's daughter and grew increasingly intrigued as the young woman spoke of the things she had learned from working with her father in the shop.

"Has Arthur asked you to accompany him to the feast?" Morgana asked as she reappeared from behind the screen in her fourth dress of the day. Sighing as the princess shook her head, she added: "He hasn't asked me either so that means I am going alone."

"No. It means that we will go together!" Arwyn smiled, "I don't know why anyone would want to attend on Arthur's arm. The man's an idiot."

"The boy is an idiot." The king's ward corrected with a smirk as she twirled in front of Arwyn and Gwen. "Well, that's settled, we shall attend together and give them a night they'll really remember."

Music filled the hall that was swarmed with groups of people, all talking amongst themselves. Morgana and Arwyn walked with their arms linked, Sir Geralt stalking behind as he ensured the latter's safety. The tables were masked by a great amount of food and as the young women navigated the crowd, they captivated the eyes of many – including the prince's, who had been joking with a small group of friends. Arwyn smiled and Morgana smirked as they made their way to the top table, passing the attendees who would bow their heads in respect or offer a greeting.

"Morgana, you look well." Arthur spoke as he approached the pair whom were whispering among themselves about the attendees. "Princess." He nodded in acknowledgement.

"Just Arwyn." The slightly smaller brunette corrected, hating the title that had been bestowed on her at birth.

Nodding slightly, Arthur opened his mouth to speak once more, only to be interrupted by the fanfares as they announced the arrival of the King and prompted everyone to take their respective seats. Arwyn felt unnecessarily wary as she stood in her assigned seat to Arthur's right and watched as King Uther made his way towards them, smiling.

"We have enjoyed twenty years of peace and prosperity. It has brought the kingdom and myself many pleasures, but few can compare with the honour of introducing Lady Helen of Mora." The king announced.

Polite applause erupted through the hall as Uther took his seat, followed by everyone else. The music accompanied by Lady Helen's voice was haunting and sent a chill down Arwyn's spine. She watched as the woman stepped further into the centre of the room, spreading her arms like wings as she sang the strange melody. Blinking, Arwyn felt a sleepiness that hadn't irked her all day and her eyelids began to close, jailing her sea green irises until everything went black. The music in her ears soon faded as her head slumped and sleep took her captive.

Moments later, an almighty crash echoed off the walls, snapping her out of the unexpected slumber and her skin crawled as she realised that she was engulfed in a thick prison of cobwebs. Quickly as fear took hold, she wrestled out of the silvery white webbing as Uther and Arthur stood, all eyes drawn to the woman that had been crushed by the chandelier. Gasps sounded, prompting the curious princess to stand, watching as the woman that had once been Lady Helen was revealed to be an old woman and it didn't take a genius to deduce that it was the mother of the boy that had been executed the previous day. As the woman rose from the ground, brandishing a dagger, Arwyn subconsciously stepped backwards until suddenly it felt as if time had slowed. The blade spun in the air, hurtling towards the prince as the old woman drew her last breath. Arwyn gasped as Merlin appeared by her side, almost throwing Arthur to the floor in front of her as the dagger finally reached a target.

The room was deathly silent, all eyes viewed the blade that had embedded itself into the Prince's chair as Arthur and Merlin sat up from their position on the floor. Instinctively, Arwyn offered her hand to the physician's ward to which he graciously accepted as she pulled him up from the floor – shock still evident on their faces as the pair stood behind Arthur, utterly speechless as they looked at each other.

"You saved my boy's life." Uther finally uttered as Merlin moved to leave. "A debt must be repaid." Arwyn smiled slightly as Merlin glanced to her before looking at the floor and muttering incoherently. "Don't be so modest. You shall be rewarded."

"No honestly, you don't have to, Your Highness." Merlin smiled shyly as Arthur stared at him, evidently still in shock.

Uther smiled slightly before insisting: "No, absolutely. This merits something quite special."

"Well..."

"You shall be awarded a position in the royal household." The king beamed, clasping a hand on Arthur's shoulder. "You shall be Prince Arthur's manservant!"

Arwyn bit her lip as a look of utter outrage encased Arthur's face and the court erupted into an applause.

"Father!" The Prince protested as his father exited the hall, the young men looking away from each other dejectedly. Arthur met Arwyn's gaze as she smiled in amusement and shrugged before catching sight of Sir Geralt who had motioned to escort her back to her quarters.

"Good luck, Merlin." The princess smiled as she moved past the disgruntled prince and his new servant. "You are certainly going to need it."


	3. CHAPTER 2

_Thank you to Evaline101, HPuni101 and Padfootette for their reviews! Let me know what you think of the following chapters xx_

Chapter 2: Valiant I

 **Disclaimer: I do not own BBC's Merlin, their characters nor their plot. I do however own the Princess Arwyn and Sir Geralt. Their character and story arcs remain my intellectual property.**

The sun shone through the windows of the castle causing the shadows to taint her complexion as she watched the knights arrive in the kingdom for the tournament – all hoping to strip Arthur of his title as tournament champion. The kingdom was abuzz with excitement as the villagers bustled around preparing for the festivities; the atmosphere made her miss home. Her father loved hosting large tournaments and lavish feasts and a part of her wanted nothing more than to see him ride through those gates however as she did when she was a child, she buried those feelings in a chapter of a book. In the love of learning. So, when Sir Geralt had banned her from leaving the castle grounds, the princess - lacking the energy to disobey and deal with the consequences - had made her way to Gaius' chambers to return the books that she had borrowed.

The room was relatively silent aside from the physician's occasional mutters and the whir of the bubbling potions and remedies accompanied by the turning of pages. It was a peaceful retreat for the young royal as she hid from the responsibilities that were bound to be bestowed upon her the moment she resurfaced. As Gaius hummed away to himself whilst Arwyn absorbed as much information about healing as she could handle, the door swung open causing them both to jolt out of their reveries.

A highly amused chuckle escaped the princess' lips causing her to put her hand over her mouth in modesty as she eyed Merlin who was dressed head to toe in cheap armour. His brow beaded with sweat and his cheeks flushed pink as he panted for air before dropping Arthur's armour on the floor at his feet.

"You look a little worse for wear." She laughed prompting Gaius to turn around to view his ward, a similar chuckle vibrating in his chest.

As the boy looked at her with a scrunched-up nose, he repeatedly slapped his ear before shouting: "Do you hear clanging?"

"Merlin, your manners." The grey-haired man scolded as he went back to his herbs.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry." Bowing slightly at her feet, Merlin winced in pain. "Ow! Every ounce of my body hurts."

"Wait. I know this one…" Arwyn suddenly exclaimed shocking the servant as he jumped before furrowing his brow at her. "Equal amounts of radish, garlic, bishopwort, helenium, cropleek, wormwood, and hollowleek…boiled in butter with red nettle and celandine." She continued, tapping her chin in thought as she recalled the chapters she had read the previous morning before turning to face the court physician for confirmation: "Correct?"

Chuckling slightly, Gaius nodded with a look of pride at her sense of achievement as she grinned happily.

"You know, you aren't like any other princesses."

"You haven't met any other princesses, Merlin." The court physician chuckled as he checked on the sleeping draught that he was brewing for Morgana.

"Well, she's not how I imagined them to be…"

Arwyn smiled as the boy scowled at his guardian: "I don't see why a title should prevent me from being who I want to be." She shrugged, stealing a slice of apple off Merlin's plate as he sat down. "I would like to be known through merit rather than birth right."

"You're nothing like Arthur."

"I should hope not!"

Gaius smiled at the young pair giggled like children, mocking the prince mercilessly. However, they were soon interrupted by a thunderous knock on the heavy wooden door which prompted the young girl to groan as she came face to face with her knight. She had been avoiding him all morning and, having perfected the art, led him on a wild goose chase but as always, the older man had found her.

"You cannot hide all day, My Lady." The older man chuckled, a bemused smile lighting his usually dark eyes. "Come on, you need to show a presence."

Merlin sniggered as the girl rolled her eyes and stood from the stool, grumbling as Sir Geralt placed her tiara on her head before gently grabbing her shoulders, spinning her around and nudging her out the door.

The breeze was warm as the pair wandered the courtyard, the bright sunshine of the early afternoon prompted her sea-green eyes to water as they battled with the smouldering rays. Muttering under breath about Morgana and Arthur not having to walk around aimlessly, Arwyn pouted childishly as her guardian glanced at her out of the corner of his dark eyes.

"You ought to be careful spending so much time with the serving boy." His voice was gruff and his tone was low as they continued across the courtyard which was full of the tournament attendees. "People may talk. You ought to…" He started but paused as a group of knights passed them prompting the princess to smile graciously and wish them luck in the tournament. "You ought to be seen with people of your own..." He continued but halted his words as Arwyn stopped and turned to face him, her mouth opening to retort, he smiled slightly. "I am not saying that you cannot befriend the boy, I am merely saying that you should _also_ be seen with Prince Arthur or the Lady Morgana."

"As you wish, My Lord." The small brunette responded, mimicking his baritone and northern accent whilst curtsying dramatically before grinning triumphantly as the knight rolled his eyes with a sigh and proceeded to walk away from her. "It's very unprofessional to leave me unattended! _Especially_ with all these handsome knights, I might run away with one…" She called after him, biting her tongue to imprison a laugh as he turned back to her with a stoic expression, his lips moving slightly as he muttered something that she could only assume was a colourful string of curses.

* * *

Having succeeded in annoying Sir Geralt, for purpose of sheer entertainment as she made an appearance to welcome some of the tournament entrants, Arwyn had made her way across the training grounds with the promise that she would show Arthur at least a sliver of support. A grin of amusement crossed her face and highlighted the dimple on her left cheek as she watched a familiar serving boy in his red tunic and brown coat, attempting to fix the armour on the Prince's back. As he blew his messy raven hair off his forehead, Arthur bellowed at him – with a murderous look on his face - for something that he had said, prompting the princess to quicken her pace and rescue the poor boy who looked completely out of his comfort zone.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Arthur asked, his tone conveying his exasperation muddled with the usual rude undertones.

As Merlin scratched his head and glanced at the armour with a look of utter confusion, Arwyn cleared her throat and coughed, kicking the stand which held the swords and causing them to clink together as a rather obvious hint for the younger boy. Seeing the girl approach, Arthur smiled brightly but that smile soon turned back to frustration as a clueless Merlin turned to the princess and asked: "Are you alright, My Lady?"

Hiding her face in her hands, Arwyn suddenly understood Arthur's plight as he roared: "My sword!" Before sighing and looking to her with a look of helplessness as she tugged her bottom lip between her teeth to hide her smile. "Useless."

After muttering every curse that came to mind, the prince turned back to look at Merlin who was hovering over the rack of swords. Seeing the look of desperation on his face as he picked up a couple of blades before returning them and scratching his chin, Arwyn glanced to Arthur who threw his hands into the air in defeat before she offered a little help: "It's the second one on the left, Merlin."

"Oh…yeah." He laughed breathlessly, the relief evident on his face as his eyes sent her a silent look of gratitude.

"So, come to wish me luck?" The prince smirked, changing the subject and tilting his head towards her as she leant against the table.

The smug look on his face and the thought of his inflating ego, forced the greying knight's request out of her mind and so, rather than allow the tall blonde the satisfaction, she answered: "No. I wanted to see Merlin." Arthur stared at her for a moment, his eyes surveying her own as if he was searching for the lie. As she smiled, he huffed and forcefully snatched his sword from Merlin's hands before storming off. "Arthur!" She called after him, pushing herself off the table and approaching him as he turned to face her with a triumphant grin. "The buckle on your shoulder is loose." She added, tightening it and then turning to face him with a smile that oozed the smugness that had previously coated his features. His expression soon fell to one of scorn whilst he scowled at her before scoffing as she patted his shoulder and abandoned him to his thoughts.

A triumphant laugh finally escaped its confines as she stole a glance at him whilst he stormed into the arena, evidently irritated by her actions. Merlin shook his head in amusement at the girl that he considered to be one of his only friends in the kingdom. As he walked her to her seat in the stands, he noted how she appeared to possess a greater talent for irritating the prince than anyone he had met and it was entirely possible that that simple notion was what had drawn him to her in the first place.

As she bid farewell to the boy, Arwyn finally took her seat in the front row of the stands between Morgana and Gwen who had been in conversation with the princess' handmaiden, Meredith, before she had excused herself. As the small blonde retreated, the girls' attentions were turned to the young royal whom they had not seen all morning:

"What have you been doing?" Gwen asked with a smile.

"Aside from avoiding Sir Geralt, being found and forced to greet the attending knights, annoying him until he left me alone and then infuriating Arthur? Nothing, at all." She shrugged, a childlike grin on her face as her new friends laughed at her eventful morning.

"I doubt it's hard to annoy Arthur."

"That is why it is so entertaining." Arwyn responded absentmindedly as she surveyed the knights that stood in the centre of the arena. "He deserved it."

The king's ward grinned at the smaller brunette: "You know, I am very grateful to have another woman in court."

"You mean very grateful that you no longer have to escort the tournament champion meaning you can attend with whomever you wish?" The young princess corrected glancing to the taller girl with a raised eyebrow and a subtle smirk.

A musical laugh broke out of Morgana at the truth of the statement, "The joys of coming second to a Princess." She shrugged, "I have a feeling that we are going to be great friends."

"Well, I must say that I feel rather exploited." Arwyn gasped, earning a chuckle from both Gwen and Morgana as she placed a hand across her heart in feigned hurt, before their conversation was cut short by the fanfares that welcomed the King.

"Knights of the realm, it's a great honour to welcome you to a tournament at Camelot." Uther began as he stood in front of the competitors who had lined themselves up in the centre of the arena. "Over the next three days, you will come to put your bravery to the test, your skills as warriors, and of course, to challenge the reigning champion, my son, Prince Arthur." As the King pointed to his son, the crowd burst into a ruckus of cheers and applause. "Only one can have the honour of being crowned champion, and he will receive a prize of 1,000 gold pieces!" Several members of the audience gasped as a servant opened a wooden chest containing the gold that glistened in the afternoon sunshine. "It is in combat that we learn a knight's true nature, whether he is indeed a warrior or a coward. The tournament begins!"

The arena soon cleared, leaving no one but Arthur and his first opponent. Arwyn watched as Uther made his way to his throne, pausing to mutter something that left an anxious expression on his son's face. Feeling her gaze, Arthur looked up and met her unintentional stare, nodding to her in acknowledgement as he tried to banish the worry that creased his brow and the guards took his cape. Smiling in return, the young princess watched as he slid on his helmet and the first fight of the tournament was called into action.

Camelot's tournaments were not dissimilar to those in her kingdom and so her previous apprehension had vanished as she enjoyed the event in the company of Morgana and Guinevere; blending seamlessly into the crowd. Disappointingly for her, the first combat did not last half as long as she expected, with Arthur quickly besting his opponent and so, it was not long until Meredith had reappeared to redress her and escort her to the throne room to formally receive the competitors with the King and his ward.

* * *

"What did she want to talk to you about earlier?" Arthur inquired, his eyes narrowing as he recalled their interaction earlier in the morning whilst he watched the girl talking animatedly about something with Morgana.

"Who?" Merlin asked frowning until he followed the Prince's gaze to the smaller brunette as she laughed before bidding farewell to the King's ward. "Oh, Arwyn?"

Arthur scowled slightly at the boy's use of her first name and immediately corrected: "The _Princess._ "

"Oh. Nothing much." Merlin responded, his voice squeaking slightly as he turned his back to the blonde and grinned in amusement whilst collecting the pieces of armour that had been strewn across the area surrounding the tent. With the first day of the tournament coming to an end, the arena was full of knights as they prepared for the reception with the King that evening in the throne room. Balancing the helmet under his chin, he turned back to face the prince with a look of achievement which soon disappeared as he tripped and fell to the ground with the clanging of metal.

Rolling his eyes, Arthur muttered: "I honestly don't understand why she is so taken with you."

"Gaius said that she used to visit Camelot when she was younger." The raven-haired boy commented, brushing himself down before collecting the armour once more. "Did you get along?"

"Merlin, I have more important things to worry about than childhood friends!" Arthur exclaimed in annoyance, snapping his stare from the girl to his servant. "Uh, for tomorrow you need to repair my shield, wash my tunic, clean my boots, sharpen my sword, and polish my chainmail." The prince ordered, his gaze finding their previous topic of conversation as she spoke with her handmaiden, Meredith. Upon realising that he was not the only man in the arena whose attention had been stolen by the girl, Arthur marched over to her. "I'm surprised Sir Geralt is allowing you to wander alone, especially with that _brute_ staring at you like a piece of meat."

"Brute?" Arwyn asked as she glanced over to the dark-haired knight in the mustard yellow tunic; watching as he sharpened his sword. "I think he's quite _handsome_." She hummed, a smirk toying at the corners of her mouth.

Arthur scoffed and rolled his eyes at her, playing perfectly into her hands as he muttered: "Of course."

"I agree." Merlin interjected from beneath the pile of armour with a cheeky grin and a slight wrinkle in his nose causing the young royals to simper in amusement as Meredith laughed quietly. "He's a creep."

* * *

"Leave it alone." Gwen muttered sternly from her position behind Morgana, watching as Arwyn intermittently touched her circlet tiara which was woven with her chestnut hair to ensure that she would keep it on.

Sighing, the restless royal switched her weight between her heels and clasped her hands in front of her as her eyes scanned her surroundings. The torches and candles illuminated the throne room as the evening crept into night. A long line of competing knights stood awaiting to shake the King's hand and the walls were lined with guards, a precaution in case the reception should go array.

"Knight Valiant of the Western Isles, My Lord." A deep voice spoke, drawing her attention to the man that she had previously discussed with Arthur and Merlin.

Uther nodded once in acknowledgment: "I saw you fighting today. You have a very aggressive style."

At the King's words, Arwyn pursed her lips slightly, trying to think back to the knight's fight and recalling that it had not lasted long at all; many in the crowd had been impressed by his performance but it had left the princess with a bitter taste on her tongue.

Valiant took the observation as a compliment and almost smirked: "Well, as My Lord said, 'To lose is to be disgraced.'"

"I couldn't agree more." Uther smiled before turning to the young women who stood to his right: "Knight Valiant, may I present the Lady Morgana, my ward, and the Princess Arwyn of the Distant Isles.

"I saw you competing today." Morgana smiled, obviously flirting with the man as she offered him her hand.

"I saw you watching." Knight Valiant nodded as he kissed her knuckles and bowed. Glancing to the princess, he added: "I understand the tournament champion has the honour of escorting my Lady to the feast?"

Narrowing her sea-green eyes slightly, Arwyn noticed the way he stared at Arthur as if trying to get a rise out of him. The simple notion irked her and despite her position, she refused to be treated merely as a prize to be won. As Arthur looked on with a wry grin, her annoyance was evident in her tone whilst she tried to maintain her manners: "That's correct."

"Then I shall do everything in my power to win." Valiant concluded after glancing to the prince once more causing Arwyn to bite her tongue in an attempt at keeping her mouth shut.

Sighing in relief as he bowed once more and placed a kiss on her knuckles before making his way to the other end of the hall, Arwyn found herself subconsciously searching for Sir Geralt. Beside her, Morgana watched him intently as the knights rallied around him, chatting incessantly.

"They all seem very taken with Knight Valiant." The King's ward spoke in a teasing tone as Arthur approached them.

"They're not the only ones."

Smirking at his response, Morgana continued: "He seems rather taken by Arwyn. He's vowed to win the tournament for her."

"I noticed."

"You're not jealous, are you?" The girl leered, her amusement growing as she teased the boy that was like a brother to her.

"Numerous knights have vowed to win the tournament for me. It means nothing." Arwyn injected rolling her eyes at Morgana who nudged her with her elbow for not playing along. As the topic of conversation watched their interaction from across the room, Arwyn glanced over prompting him to smirk and bow his head. "Merlin was right." She added, irritated by the man as she looked around the room once more in search of the greying knight.

Smiling slightly at her words, Arthur moved to leave them before noticing the expression on her face. Grazing her hand slightly to catch her attention, he whispered: "He is by the door. Don't panic." Drawing her gaze back to him as she visibly relaxed before he nodded briefly and made his way over to converse with a small group of knights.

"Many men have vowed to win for you and you're only watching the only who hasn't." Morgana almost sang, a smirk tugging at her painted pink lips.

"I hardly think so." The smaller brunette scoffed, peeling her gaze from the prince and greeting the next knight. "Arthur's an idiot too." She added defensively.

"I do hope Valiant wins the tournament. It would teach him a lesson."

Gwen chuckled behind them, reminding them of her presence: "You don't really mean that."

"Of course she doesn't, because if he wins he would be unable to escort her." Arwyn smirked, turning her head to look at the handmaiden who mirrored her expression as Morgana's cheeks flushed pink before she admitted defeat and grinned coyly in agreement.

* * *

The second day of the tournament was even more eventful than the first. Arthur continued with his winning streak which only inflated his ego further and Sir Valiant had progressed to the next stage of the competition after defeating Sir Ewain and leading to the first major injury of the tournament. The excitement of the day had finally taken its toll on the young princess as she wandered the halls of the castle, walking off the sluggish feeling of her evening meal.

As she caught a yawn between her lips, her gaze was drawn to the prince's manservant as he lingered around one of the guest's bed chambers. Her natural curiosity forced her into a detour as her feet pulled her down the corridor in time to see the raver-haired boy dash behind a pillar.

"I do hope that you aren't planning on using that?" She called out as Valiant stormed out of his chambers, his sword drawn.

"Princess." The man breathed, relief evident in his expression as his blue eyes surveyed her before he bowed his head in respect. "I apologise, I thought I heard something…"

Listening to the taller man's explanation, Arwyn glanced to where Merlin had been hiding, her sea green eyes meeting his panic-filled blue ones.

"My footsteps, no doubt."

"No doubt." The knight repeated with a smile, his eyes trawling across her face as an awkward, tension-filled silence engulfed them.

It took every ounce of energy she had to refrain from shrinking backwards under his stare but as she returned his smile, her chin raised slightly, she announced: "I ought to be on my way."

"Goodnight, My Lady. Sleep well."

Watching as the man bowed and retreated to his chambers, Arwyn quickly marched over to a hidden Merlin.

"You should not be snooping in a knight's chambers, you could have landed yourself in trouble!" She hissed, lightly smacking his arm. "What were you doing?"

Muttering incoherently, Merlin flushed red as he caught the stern expression on her tired face: "Sorry…"

"There was no harm done. _This time._ " She scolded prompting the boy to smile sheepishly and scratch the back of his head – a nervous habit. Fighting a smile as it threatened to destroy her resolve, Arwyn shook her head: "Goodnight, Merlin."

* * *

The third day of the tournament brought just as much excitement as the crowd grew more eager to crown their champion. Arthur stood in the centre of the arena facing his opponent who was easily twice his size and stature. Gwen glanced to the nobles beside her as Morgana absentmindedly toyed with her amber coloured cloak and Arwyn bounced her knee incessantly as her eyes darted between the crowd and the fight in from of them.

"You aren't worried, are you?" The blacksmith's daughter smirked at her friends, prompting them to snap their heads around to look at her with near identical glares as they muttered responses of protest.

* * *

Sir Geralt sat at the opposite end of the table to the King, swivelling his wine in his goblet as he conversed with the knights. Uther had approached him earlier that evening and cordially invited him to attend the meal that had been prepared for the competitors in celebration of Knight Valiant making it to the final. The greying knight had been more than willing to decline but as his Lady graciously accepted the invitation for him, he was reminded that he ought to make an effort.

"So Valiant," Uther's voice broke through the idle chatter that bounced off the stone walls of the council chambers. "Do you think you stand a chance of defeating my son?"

Smiling graciously in response, the brunette knight answered conservatively despite the unimpressed look on Arthur's face as his blue eyes pierced the man with disdain: "He is a great warrior, My Lord. I do hope to be a worthy opponent."

"You should stay in Camelot after the tournament. I could do with more knights like you." The King suggested, nodding happily as he tipped his goblet slightly toward the man.

"I would be honoured, My Lord." Valiant responded with a respectful smile. Sir Geralt's dark eyes surveyed the younger knight, watching as he glanced sideways at the prince before turning to the King once more, "Tell me, the Princess Arwyn, is she bound to marry?"

"Yes." Sir Geralt interrupted, cutting Uther off. He disliked the way the young knight sneered at the Prince and sensed an ulterior motive as he spoke of the young girl; using her to taunt his competition. "Very happily." He added as Uther nodded to him.

Arthur's glare remained cemented to the knight in front of him, anger and frustration brewing hatred as the man smirked and looked him in the eye: "You are a _very_ lucky man." He concluded, his tone taunting with a mysterious underlay.

The knight from the Distant Isles maintained a close eye on Valiant for the rest of the evening, swiftly shutting down any conversation that led to the young royal under his protection. As the meal drew to a close, the competitors dispersed, leaving the battle-scarred knight and the King with a little privacy.

"I ought to thank you for defending the alliance." Uther spoke, sipping on his wine. "I am glad to see that you are on the same page as King Richard and I – a marriage would…"

"With all due respect, Sire." Geralt interrupted. "I did not lie for the sake of your politics. As with everything I do, I did it to protect the princess."

The king surveyed him as he stood from the table, slightly taken aback by the brashness of the old knight's answer but ultimately commending him: "Your loyalty is admirable, Sir Geralt."

 _To be continued…_


	4. CHAPTER 3

Chapter 3: Valiant II

 **Disclaimer: I do not own BBC's Merlin, their characters nor their plot. I do however own the Princess Arwyn and Sir Geralt. Their character and story arcs remain my intellectual property.**

A gentle frown creased her brow as she stood next to Morgana in the council chambers, with her knight directly behind her in his usual protective stance. She had barely awoken when Sir Geralt had barged into her chambers alerting her to the fact that Arthur had summoned the court and so she had quickly slipped into a light lilac dress, pulled a hairbrush through her long curls and dumped her circlet on top of her head in the most unladylike manner – much to Meredith's dismay as she arrived to fix the royal disaster.

Just as the young princess' mind began to wander, the king stormed into the court – his mood apparent in his expression and the heaviness of his footing.

"Why have you summoned the court?"

Arwyn had to admit that she was impressed as Arthur maintained his resolve under the intense glare of his father as he responded, simply: "I believe Knight Valiant is using a magic shield to cheat in the tournament."

At the young man's statement, many members of the royal court frowned in disbelief and muttered to one another until the King raised his hand to silence them and turned to the man in question: "Valiant, what do you have to say to this?"

"My Lord, this is ridiculous. I've never used magic." The knight responded defensively. "Does your son have any evidence to support this outrageous accusation?"

The court watched as the prince summoned his servant. A gentle frown narrowed Arwyn's eyes as she watched the boy present the head of a snake to King Uther; she had never seen a snake in Camelot and that fact, alongside her kinship with Merlin, led her to considered the accusation.

"Let me see this shield." The king ordered, holding a hand out in anticipation.

As Merlin whispered something inaudible to the prince, the blonde drew his sword and warned his father to take caution. The room remained eerily silent as each individual awaited the king's verdict whilst he ran a hand over the inanimate snakes. Whilst more whispers were passed between Arthur and his manservant, Knight Valiant spoke up:

"As you can see, My Lord, it's just an ordinary shield."

"He's not going to let everyone see the snakes come alive!" Arthur scoffed in an accusatory tone mixed with defensiveness.

"Then how am I to know that what you say is true?" The grey-haired man asked his son, handing the shield back to the knight with an expression that convinced the young princess that he viewed the summoned court as an inconvenience.

Arwyn's eyebrows rose slightly as Arthur informed the small group that Knight Ewain had been bitten by a snake. She easily recalled the fight in which the purple cladded knight had fallen to the ground, before falling into an unconsciousness that many believed had been due to the force of his opponent's strikes. She listened as the prince alerted his father to the fact that the knight had seen the snakes and although he was gravely ill, he had received an antidote and was willing to testify that Valiant was using magic to cheat in the tournament. As the King asked where the witness was, the princess began to believe the tale that was being spun. She was no stranger to sorcery as the laws in her father's kingdom were much more relaxed; the court physician and her father's advisor both studied and practised magic.

"I'm waiting!" Uther bellowed causing the young women to jump slightly as Arthur, Merlin and Gaius whispered in the corner.

As the blonde royal turned to face his father again, his expression was solemn and sliver of fear was evident to the keenest of spectators: "I am afraid the witness is dead."

"So, you have no proof to support these allegations." The King concluded, frankly. "Have you seen Valiant using magic?"

Arwyn cringed slightly, sympathising with Arthur as he stumbled over his words to provide an answer: "No. But my servant fought one of the snakes from..."

"Your servant? You made these outrageous accusations against a knight on the word of your servant?" Uther's expression immediately darkened as he comprehended the situation. His eyes flushed with unwielded wrath as he glared at his only son.

"I believe he's telling the truth!"

From his position beside the King, Valiant almost smirked as he spoke: "My Lord, am I really to be judged on some hearsay from a boy?"

"I've seen those snakes come alive!" Merlin protested, jumping forward to the centre of the council chambers and undoubtedly heightening the situation.

"How dare you interrupt?!" Uther spat, looking down on the boy. "Guards!"

The summoned men immediately descended on the servant, grasping his arms in their tight fists as they dragged him forcefully towards the door. Instinctively, Arwyn tried to rush to his defence but found herself held in her place by a large gloved hand as his clutched her shoulder. Distressed by the treatment of the boy, she looked from her captive shoulder to her knight who sent her a stern stare as he refused to remove his hand, worried of the trouble that she would land herself in should she open her pretty little mouth.

Crossing her arms childishly, she looked to Arthur who met her gaze for a split second before looking away defeatedly. Observing her pleading expression and the prince's unwillingness to speak up, Valiant stepped forward: "My Lord." He uttered, addressing the king but keeping his gaze on the young girl, "I'm sure that he was merely mistaken. I wouldn't want him punished on my account."

Arthur's jaw slackened as the older man nodded slightly towards Arwyn as she smiled in gratitude with a sigh of relief. His gaze remained fixated on the knight as a look of disdain settled on his expression – the contempt only increasing as his father turned to him: "You see? This is how a true knight behaves - with gallantry and honour."

"My Lord, if your son made these accusations because he's afraid to fight me, then I will graciously accept his withdrawal."

"Is this true? Do you wish to withdraw from the tournament?" Uther asked, eyeing his son as he searched for an explanation for his unexpected behaviour only to be met with brash protest. "Then what am I to make of these allegations?"

Glancing around the court as all eyes landed on him, Arthur admitted defeat: "Obviously there has been a misunderstanding." He sighed, "I withdraw the allegation against Knight Valiant. Please accept my apology."

As Valiant smiled smugly, Arthur turned to make his departure. Morgana and Arwyn glanced at one another, both sharing a sinking feeling as they watched the prince bow his head and leave the court; his shoulders looking heavier than usual as they slumped slightly. As the King's ward opened her mouth to speak to him and the princess stepped to follow him, both halted and came to the solemn realisation that whilst the court contemplated the cowardly motives behind their champions accusations, there were no words that could make him feel any better.

* * *

"Do you swear to me that you are telling the truth? Is that why you were in his chambers?" Arwyn spoke as she approached a downhearted Merlin. Watching the boy nod, she sighed slightly and sat beside him on the steps of the castle. "Then I believe you."

"That's because you're destined to." Merlin mumbled with a defeated sigh as he recalled the conversation that he had with the Great Dragon. He spoke of a vital ally with a fairness to battle injustice and a heart as large as any kingdom with an endearing naivety and the ability to unite the people. "At least I think it's you but I don't know because all he does is speak in riddles!" The boy sighed once more, hiding his face in his hands. He had yet to prove that the young woman beside him was whom the dragon had spoken of but his magic felt drawn to her from the moment he had met her.

"What are you talking about?" The girl laughed.

"It's your destiny to be on my side, just like it is your destiny to be queen and to mould Arthur into a more tolerable person…" Merlin ranted but as he saw the vacant expression on the princess' face, he paused for a breath: "and I must keep the idiot alive because that's _my_ destiny but what happens if I just let him die? But the dragon said: _'you can't escape your destiny!'_ "

Ignoring the deep voiced impersonation that came out of the boy's mouth, Arwyn frowned: "Um…did you say dragon?" She asked with a raised eyebrow, "Have you been drinking?"

Groaning, Merlin threw his head back into his hands: "No."

Surveying his helplessness, she sighed through her nose: "Well, whether it's 'destiny' or not. What are we going to do? Arthur can't fight him."

"Can you convince him to withdraw?"

"He won't want to do that. He already believes the royal court to think him a coward." She answered, shaking her head before glancing out into the courtyard. "People do not want a King who is scared to fight…if Arthur withdraws, it may damage his reputation and his people may think him incapable of defending them." Merlin looked at her, momentarily stunned by her insight into the Prince's head; it was easy to forget as they laughed or spent the morning reading in Gaius' chambers that the young woman was a highborn and expected to be a rule one day. As Gwen approached, Arwyn stood from the step and smoothed down her skirt before turning to the serving boy with a wry smile: "I am sure that you will think of something. Find me if you need anything."

* * *

As the day turned into night, Arwyn stood at her bedroom window. Pulling her nightgown tighter around her shoulders, her eyes remained glued to the figure of the prince as he danced with the shadows in the courtyard, swinging his sword wildly as he fought an unseen opponent. Sipping her tea, she noted the familiarity of his strikes. They had grown in power but his defensive stance and strong attacks were almost identical to those she used to parry as a child; memories that she had thought to be long buried. The longer she watched, the more she recalled until the darkness transformed into light.

 _The air was still as the evening sun beat down on Camelot. Two kings watched from the balcony as their heirs battered each other with wooden swords, relishing in the innocence that radiated from them before they were tainted by the woes of politics and social responsibilities. The duo had been born mere months apart and despite the distance between their kingdoms had become fast friends; both counting the days until their visits._

 _"_ _That's not fair!" The little boy whined as he was knocked backwards, his sword knocked from his grasp and kicked out of reach. A slight scowl rested on his expression as he looked up at the girl who twirled the wooden sword with a triumphant smile. "Princesses shouldn't fight with swords."_

 _A deep frown crossed the girl's pale complexion as she watched the boy dust himself down: "What good is a queen that cannot defend herself or her people?"_

 _"_ _Queen's don't fight."_

 _"_ _I will. Sir Geralt has been teaching me."_

 _"_ _I know." The blonde boy grumbled as he rubbed his elbow, "That hurt."_

 _Smiling sheepishly, the brunette picked up the discarded weapon and handed it back to her companion: "Sorry."_

 _"_ _When I am older, you won't have to fight." The boy smiled, his chest puffed out in pride. "I will protect you."_

 _"_ Or _I will protect you." As the girl grinned, she swung her dummy sword at the boy prompting him to adjust his footing and quickly parry it._

 _"_ _Come now, little Queen." A tall blonde man approached, the evening sunshine glinting off his golden crown as he walked side by side with a man slightly older than him. "Your mother wants you to bathe before supper."_

 _Groaning, the little girl turned to her father with a look of disappointment as the older King chuckled: "You too, Arthur."_

 _"_ _Race you there!" A six-year-old Arthur called, dumping his wooden sword on the grass and running towards the castle._

 _Her white tunic danced with the wind as she took off after the boy. Almost knocking over a servant, the princess shouted a swift apology before coming to a halt at the imaginary finishing line and huffing: "That's not fair, Arthur! You cheated!"_

 _Giggling at her reddened cheeks, the boy stood triumphantly on the steps to the castle: "It's not my fault that you are slow. A dragon wouldn't give you a head start."_

The door to her chambers soon swung open, yanking her out of her mind as she snapped her head around to face Morgana: "You startled me. How late is it?" She asked, watching as the King's ward closed the door behind her and approached.

"I tried to get him to withdraw but he won't listen to me."

Nodding very slightly, Arwyn followed her friend's gaze down to Arthur who remained in the courtyard, swinging his sword relentlessly: "He doesn't want the people to think him a coward." She spoke softly, a sigh escaping her as she considered what competing may mean for the Prince.

"I had a horrible dream about the fight." Morgana spoke, her eyes fearful as she looked to the smaller brunette. "If Merlin was right…what if Valiant uses the shield to kill him?"

As the princess met the older girl's gaze, she considered lying for the sake of providing a sliver of comfort but could not bring herself to do it. She wholeheartedly believed the serving boy's accusations and the heavy weight in her chest mixed with the nauseating feeling that brewed in her stomach, would not allow her to forget the reality of the peril that lay in wait for them the following morning. With a final glance at the prince, Arwyn stepped away from the window and poured another cup of tea, handing one to Morgana as they sat on her bed.

The young women spoke until the early hours of the morning until sleeplessness had taken its toll on them both and swept them under its control. Arwyn woke the next morning as Meredith and Guinevere conversed quietly by the table; glancing down at her feet, she saw Morgana sleeping soundly with a pillow under her head.

"Good morning, My Lady." Meredith smiled, noticing the young royal as she sat up and nudged her friend with her foot, causing her to sit up with a yawn and a stretch as she confirmed that despite the strange position, it had been the best night's sleep that she had had in a while.

* * *

As the princess stared into her own sea-green eyes whilst her handmaiden crafted her hair around her crown, she could not ignore the nausea that taunted her and the slight fear that created a tremor in her dainty hands. Finally freeing herself from the clutches of Meredith, she made her way to the Prince's chambers.

"I assume it is your turn to ask me to withdraw?" Arthur spoke as he saw her appear in the doorway. "Or have you come to call me a coward for accusing your champion?"

"No." Arwyn retorted defensively as the blonde succeeded in getting under her skin. "I had come to see how you were feeling but I see that you are as arrogant as always so I will be on my way."

Turning on her heel, her loose curls smacking the door frame as Arthur sighed and called after her: "Wait." Stubbornly pausing, she eventually turned back to face him. "I'm sorry."

Biting the inside of her cheek, she met his blue-eyed gaze: "Me too."

"Leave us." Arthur instructed, prompting the older servant to nod and bow his head to each of them before rushing out of the room. Sighing once more, the prince turned to the princess as she walked further into the room, leaning against one of the posts on his four-poster bed. "I can't withdraw."

"I know." Arwyn whispered, almost inaudibly as she glanced at her hands then back to him, her sea-green eyes piercing him. "He will use the shield against you…"

"I know."

An emotion-fuelled silence charged the space between them as they stared at each other wordlessly, neither being able to convey the heaviness in their chests.

"There is really nothing that we can do, is there?" She asked, an innocent and almost helpless expression on her face – the truest emotion that he had seen from her since she had returned to the kingdom.

As Arthur shook his head in response, Arwyn nodded once and stepped forward. Her fingertips grazed the buckle on his shoulder as she tightened it, causing him to turn his head to look at her. His nose grazed her cheek, suddenly alerting them to their proximity as they held each other's stare - for what may have been the last time - until the young woman cleared her throat gently and looked back to the leather strap.

"I used to spend hours fastening Geralt's armour when I was a child." She spoke softly as she tucked the strap under the metal plate.

"Why?" Arthur frowned slightly as he watched the look of concentration on her face.

"Because I wanted to learn everything that I could." She answered, a slight laugh escaping her lips as she blushed slightly from embarrassment, shrugging: "It's silly, I know."

"I don't think it is." He muttered in response as she stepped away from him, surveying her handiwork before she picked up his sword from the table. As she hesitated to hand it to him, he noted the concern that flitted across her face – speaking the words that she daren't utter out of pride. Chewing the inside of her cheek again, she sighed and held the sword out to him. "Thank you."

"Be careful." She whispered, swallowing her pride for a second.

Smirking half-heartedly, Arthur repeated the words that she had used on him the day that she had arrived in Camelot: "I think it's sweet that you care."

As she rolled her eyes, she reached up to unclasp the locket that cradled her collarbones: "Wear it for luck?"

"I would be honoured."

Smiling to mask the worried feeling in the pit of her stomach, Arwyn attached the chain to the inside of his chest plate. Arthur's eyes trailed the concentrated look on her face, recalling that it was identical to the one that she often wore as a child. Many things had changed in the years that they had been apart, their responsibilities thwarting them until they were barely recognisable to each other but in that second, the princess had captured a familiar innocence and reminded him that despite their difference in opinions, he knew her.

"It was my mother's so you must promise to bring it back to me." She requested as she looked up at him, looking for confirmation that he would try his hardest to return alive. As Arthur nodded, Arwyn reached up and placed a kiss on his cheek, lingering slightly before pulling away.

"I will see you at the feast." He confirmed, gently squeezing her hand before slowly stepping away and leaving her alone in his chambers with nothing but a nauseating feeling in her chest.

* * *

Sitting in the stands, Arwyn searched the crowd for a familiar messy-haired servant. She had no idea what she expected of him but his lack of appearance had left her already shattered nerves in an irreparable state. It took all her energy to refrain from picking at her fingernails as the tournament final began and Arthur faced Valiant.

The crowd went wild as Arthur knocked Valiant's helmet off and proceeded to remove his own one. As the rest of the arena cheered and the competitors pulled down their chainmail coifs, the princess couldn't help but wish that the prince hadn't been so noble. Her thoughts were soon supported as the knight knocked Arthur to the ground. Subconsciously, Arwyn clutched Gwen's hand as they watched Valiant step on the prince's shield and disarmed him before swinging his sword.

"Sorry." She muttered, releasing the girl as Arthur rolled away from the strike.

Sitting further forward in her seat, she watched Valiant pin Arthur against the wall. However, before fear could rear its ugly head, the knight in the yellow tunic was forced backwards – prompting sighs of relief to echo throughout the arena. Suddenly, two large green snakes slithered out of Knight Valiant's shield causing the entirety of the crowd to jump from their seats in surprise. Arwyn and Morgana stared at each other in shock, as Uther finally acknowledged that the seemingly perfect knight had indeed been using magic.

"And now they see you for what you really are." Arthur announced, his arms spread.

Chuckling, Valiant's face visibly darkened as he looked to the magical snakes: "Kill him!"

Arwyn gripped her hands as she had no option but to watch Arthur back up against the stands, two snakes cornering him as his opponent stood with a smug smile before advancing with his sword drawn.

"Arthur!" A voice shouted from beside her as Morgana ripped a sword from the knight standing to their left and tossed it into the arena.

Seconds passed as the blade soared and landed perfectly in the prince's gloved hand before swinging through the air and chopping the head off both snakes. A sigh of relief escaped her as Arthur disarmed Valiant and pushed a sword through his heart, whispering something before leaving his lifeless body to fall to the sand-coated ground. Arwyn hadn't realised how tense she had been until the aching of her muscles broke through her conscious as the crowd erupted, chanting the name of their champion.

* * *

The kingdom was in good spirits at the celebratory feast that crowed Prince Arthur as the tournament champion. Food covered every inch of the long tables as hundreds of people conversed in small groups, drinking merrily until they could sit and eat.

"You look…" Arthur began before pausing and prompting her to raise an eyebrow at him as he failed to finish his sentence. Entering the hall, the young pair smiled and greeted each of the royal subjects as they passed. "I hope you aren't disappointed that Valiant isn't escorting you." The prince spoke once more, glancing from the attendees to the princess on his arm.

"It turns out that yellow isn't my colour…It makes me look ill." She responded earning a chuckle from the prince. Looking at him slightly, she noted how tired his eyes were: "I am glad that you are okay. It could have been much worse."

"You were worried."

As the prince smirked with his usual inflated ego, Arwyn scoffed: "Perhaps for half a second until I remembered that I don't care."

Halting, Arthur laughed – a genuine yet foreign sound to both of the young royals: "I will accept half a second." He smiled, looking down at her before adding, "Just this once." As she smiled, Arthur took her hand in his own and placed her mother's silver locket in the palm of her hand before closing her fingers around it. Holding her there for a moment – the chain cold against her fingertips - he met her eyes until a fellow knight approached them and offered his congratulations before dismissing himself. "Can you believe that Morgana thinks that she saved me?"

Gently grasping his arm again as they walking further into the hall, Arwyn frowned: "She did...and perhaps if you weren't so proud, you would be capable of seeing that." Arthur raised an eyebrow at her, surprised by the candidness of her expression whilst he decided if she was insulting him. "If Morgana hadn't thrown you that sword, you would have been unarmed against two magically conjured snakes and a rather determined and ambitious knight."

The blonde prince stared at her for a moment, opening his mouth to retort and then closing it a few times as she smiled at him smugly until he settled for simple denial: "She didn't save me."

"Whatever you say, _Sire_." She remarked before her gaze was drawn to a rather miserable Merlin as he sat alone with his chin rested against his folded arms. "Merlin was right all along. I just wish that I could have helped him in court." Arthur watched her as she spoke, her attention solely on the boy before she glanced up at him: "You ought to go and apologise before we sit down to eat."

"Why? I believed him." The prince frowned in confusion.

"And then you fired him." Arwyn finished, raising an eyebrow challengingly as she crossed her arms. "Go."

* * *

"Your mother loved it here." Uther smiled as he looked at the girl who sat to his son's right. Arwyn nodded, unsure of where the king was taking the conversation. "She had always hoped that you would reside here once you decided to marry Arthur."

The princess inhaled sharply causing her to choke on the wine that she had just sipped from her goblet, evidently caught off-guard by the unexpected suggestion from the King whilst Arthur - who seemed equally as shocked - whipped his head round to face his father.

"Father, I don't think..." The prince began as he gently patted her back in attempted aid.

"When you were children, your mother thought it was inevitable that you would choose my son. You are both of marrying age. Perhaps if you just spent a little time together, you would rekindle what has been lost over the years." The king interrupted, ignoring the glare that his son was sending him as Arwyn's grip tightened on her chalice. "I have watched you both today and it is not hard to believe the possibilities. By now, many young women would have been married to forge and strengthen alliances for the benefit of their kingdoms. You are Robert's only heir…"

"I am not a bone that you throw to a howling dog." The brunette retorted interrupting her father's old friend, her gaze fierce and her tone harsh as she defended their actions. "My father understands that. He believes in love and choice. As did my mother."

Uther stared at her for a moment before nodding with raised eyebrows and his mouth turned down in surprise as he realised that he had completely underestimated a crucial component to his planned alliance. Morgana – evidently pleased with the princess' words – smiled as Arwyn finally released the king from her glare and turned to face the crowd as they feasted, her lips pursed in mild annoyance.

"And there we were – myself and my ill-fated companions – faced with _twenty_ ghouls!" A voice boomed from the other side of the hall causing Arwyn to pause. A groan burned in her throat as she witnessed her knight standing on a stool in the middle of the hall, arms flailing as he spilt wine over the courtiers who laughed whole-heartedly.

"Sir Geralt!" The Princess scolded as she stood up, drawing the man's attention. "Sit down."

"But My Lady, I am entertaining!" He protested, grinning lopsidedly.

"I can see that but perhaps it would be more… _appropriate_ to tell different story." She suggested through gritted teeth, terrified of the tales of magic and gruesome murders that may escape the drunken Knight's mouth.

"Oh yes!" He grinned as he obeyed her previous order and sat back down, his voice still booming through the court. "We were wandering the forests of bonny Scotland and there we were – myself and my ill-fated companions – faced with _three-hundred_ wolves!"

Utterly embarrassed, Arwyn slid back into her seat as the King chuckled in amusement and her knight swung his arms about like a madman. Her hand covered her reddened face as Uther told Morgana of the old knight that had always been the life of the party in the twenty years that he had known him.

"Sir Geralt has a talent for story-telling." Arthur whispered as he leant closer to her.

"Indeed. I am sure that he was a Bard in a previous life." Arwyn responded, looking to the old adventurer and smiling fondly as she shook her head: _"Or a fool."_


	5. CHAPTER 4

_Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has followed and favourited and a special thanks to HPuni101 for their review._

 _Let me know what you all think!_

Disclaimer: I do not own BBC's Merlin, their characters nor their plot. I do however own the Princess Arwyn and Sir Geralt. Their character and story arcs remain my intellectual property.

"I am tired." Arwyn huffed, blowing the tendrils of hair that fell from her ponytail and obstructed her view. Every muscle in her body ached and her side had grown tender from being continually tapped with the practice sword.

"You wanted to train so pick up the sword." The tall knight ordered gruffly. As the princess made no attempt to move, he swiftly jabbed her side once more. "Pick up the sword."

The Pendragons watched from the balcony as the young girl growled in frustration and swung her sword at the scarred knight.

"King Richard and I used to watch the pair of you from up here." The king spoke, his voice wistful. "You were always in competition with one another."

Arthur glanced at his father, noting the subtle happiness that clouded his tired eyes as his mind wandered down memory lane: "Why did they stop visiting?"

"Things changed once Evaine died. Richard's values had always differed from our own but soon the differences bred distance and our relations grew…" Uther paused, searching for the correct term. " _strained_." The king explained, a hint of regret evident in his tone and expression. "As Arwyn is due to come of age, her father crafted a list of suitors but to repair our alliance, he sent her to you first." Arthur watched the small brunette as she furiously fought against her guardian. Her form aggressive and lacking in defence. "She is his entire world; he will not force her to do anything and so she will remain here as long as she wishes."

Arthur nodded, "She has it easier than most then."

"I do not think that is necessarily true, Arthur." The older royal corrected, shaking his head as he watched the young girl who was as equally as spirited as she had been in her childhood. "Give her a chance. She was your first love after all."

Ignoring his father's comment, Arthur noted: "I had expected him to go easy on her."

Uther chuckled at his son's assumption, glancing to the look of concentration on the girl's face as her tired arms jabbed the sword towards the older knight, who easily avoided it: "You have forgotten her. She would never stand for it. Her mother was exactly the same." A brief shine of adoration flashed across his eyes as he studied the stubborn young princess.

Down below, Sir Geralt chuckled whilst he blocked an overhead swing before kicking her feet out from underneath her and watching as she fell to the floor. Frustration tainted her cheeks as she scowled before launching the practise sword across the grounds and picking blades of grass off her trousers.

Wincing as she stood up, she pushed the man who only laughed harder: "You didn't have to hit me so hard!"

"Visit the physician for a remedy and stop being a baby."

* * *

Her ribs ached as she made her way to Gaius' chambers, making her regret the vigorous training session. Gently knocking her knuckles against the old wooden door, Arwyn reached for the handle but jumped in fright as the prince's manservant threw the door open before launching himself into the corridor dramatically and forcing her to step backwards as his chest brushed her nose.

"You look nice!" Merlin exclaimed albeit a little too cheerily, smiling rather strangely at her as she eyed him in suspicion.

"Gaius said he would have a muscle remedy for me…" She drawled, trying to step round the boy but failing as he blocked her way. Stepping left, Merlin mirrored her, obstructing her view of the physician's chambers. With a frown, Arwyn stepped right but as the taller boy copied and remained in her line of sight, she narrowed her eyes at him: "What are you hiding?"

Mimicking her expression, Merlin retorted: "What are _you_ hiding?"

"What?" She asked, exasperatedly. As the pair stared at each other with narrow eyes, a wrinkled hand poked through the crack in the door and handed the servant a small vial of paste which he promptly thrust into the princess' hands.

"See you later!" Merlin almost shouted as he turned her by her shoulders and nudged her away from the door.

Arwyn opened her mouth to retort but found herself speechless as she frowned and began to walk away. A few steps later, she tilted her head as curiosity demanded an explanation but as she turned back to the servant, she was greeted with nothing but the slamming of the wooden door. Raising her eyebrows in shock, she slowly turned back to the staircase only to bump into Arthur.

"Your servant is broken." She announced, squeezing past him on the narrow steps as his nose wrinkled in confusion.

* * *

As she sat in her seat in the council chambers, she could not peel her worried gaze from the dead man in front of her; Morgana clutched her hand as she looked equally as disturbed. His skin was a pale blue with his veins taking on a much darker shade as they protruded through his face. Arwyn felt her stomach lurch as she considered his eyes which lacked any colour with the irises paling to nothing but a glazed-over hue of powder blue. Finally pulling her gaze from the death, she studied the solemn expression on the court physician's face whilst he studied the body.

"What's happened to him?" Uther asked as he stood over the scene.

"I don't know, Sire. It's the second case I've seen today."

"Why didn't you report it to me?"

"I was attempting to find the cause." Gaius explained. A look of realisation dawned on Arwyn's face as she concluded that Merlin had been covering for his mentor during their strange interaction earlier in the day. As her gaze wandered to the boy he shrugged sheepishly as if reading her thoughts. "I don't think it's time to hurry to conclusions. The scientific process is a long one." The old man responded as he was pressed for answers.

"What are you concealing from me?"

"Sire, I have seen nothing like it. The victims are dying in 24 hours, and it's spreading fast."

"What is the cause?" Arwyn watched as the King pressed his physician further, the impatience radiating off him as his brow creased gently.

"I think you should say that the cause, the most likely cause, is…sorcery."

* * *

Arwyn jolted out of shock, dropping the letter from her hands as the door to her chambers swung open and clattered against the wall. Her hair whipped her face, smacking her in the eye as she turned to the wooden door.

"Ever heard of knocking?" She asked, her hands on her hips as Arthur and his guards let themselves in.

"Sorry, My Lady." A knight bowed as the prince ignored her.

"What are you looking for?" She almost shouted, growing irritated by the young man as he opened and closed all her cupboards and crouched to search under her bed. As she was ignored once more, she prodded the prince with her foot forcing him to stand and face her.

"Signs of sorcery." He answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Trust me, if I was a sorceress I would have turned you into a toad by now." She snapped, annoyance tainting her expression as she snatched a book out of his hands.

Rolling his eyes at her response, the prince made his way to a drawer but as he placed his hand around the golden handle, Arwyn stepped in front of him. Glancing at her hand as it held the drawer shut, Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"I am afraid that if you wish to view my underwear, you are going to have to marry me first."

"Was that a proposal?" He smirked masking the pinkish tint on his cheeks, prompting the girl to mirror his expression and tilt her head as she leant towards him.

"You wish." She whispered, stepping backwards with a triumphant look in her eyes as she pursed her lips with a slight simper.

Arthur's eyes flickered over her face for a moment, studying her as she challenged him before he finally gave in to her. Waving his hand, he ordered his guards to move onto the next room in the castle before turning away from the slightly younger royal in front of him.

"And you tease me for flirting with the knights…" A voice grinned from the doorway as the prince and his guards exited. Spinning around, Arwyn was met with the rather amused expression of Lady Morgana. "Poor guards, the tension was unbearable."

* * *

The next morning, Arwyn yawned as she knocked on the door next to hers. She and Morgana had planned to take an early ride through the forest to escape from the chaos within the castle due to the mysterious plague. As her friend answered the door, she frowned at her solemn expression before entering the chambers to find a distraught Guinevere.

Her usually perfect olive complexion was streaked red and her nose was pink from blowing it. Her eyes were puffy and red from crying and her hair looked decidedly dishevelled as she ran her shaking hands through it every couple of minutes. In the brief time that she had known the maidservant, Arwyn had never seen her look anything but cheerful and so the pessimist in her took control.

"Are you…?" She began, her breath catching in her throat as she considered the possibility of losing the young woman.

Gwen shook her head furiously as a loud and heart-wrenching sob escaped her: "My father. He's sick."

"Oh, Gwen, I am so sorry." She breathed, immediately sitting down beside her and wrapping an arm around her.

There was nothing that the princess nor the Lady Morgana could have done to help their friend in her moment of need but as her heart broke at the thought of losing her only parent, they held her and for the rest of the day - and into the early hours of the morning - they looked after her as she did them.

* * *

"I thought my father banned you from leaving the castle grounds?"

"Technically, he said that I wasn't to enter the lower town." Arwyn quipped, rubbing her chin as she feigned thought: "and I would say that I am a good 14 steps from the cut-off point."

As she looked at him with complete seriousness, Arthur couldn't help but laugh: "There's always a loophole." A bright grin spread across her face, shining in her eyes in a way that he hadn't seen before as he looked at the basket she was carrying. "Here, let me carry that."

Raising an eyebrow, she swatted him away and scoffed: "I am capable of carrying a basket, Arthur." The late morning sun beat down on them as the villagers bustled around, pausing only to mutter a greeting and bow their heads in respect. "How's the search going?" She asked, looking up at him whilst moving slightly until his head blocked the sun from her eyes.

"It's not." The prince sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know what I am supposed to be looking for…"

"You will know when you see it." Arwyn hummed a little mysteriously as her sea-green eyes surveyed the village, however her attention was soon drawn back to the prince whose stare had remained on her: "What?"

"Nothing. You're just strange, that's all." Arthur commented earning a swift elbow to the ribs. Laughing breathlessly, his blue gaze was pulled to Gwen's father. "I thought that the blacksmith was sick?"

"He was." Rolling her eyes as the blonde prince marched with conviction over to the blacksmith, Arwyn followed: "Good morning, Tom." She smiled, "How are…"

"The story is you were sick." Arthur rudely interrupted, staring at the man with his arms crossed – Arwyn thought that he looked unnecessarily aggressive as Tom explained that he had recovered overnight.

"Perhaps he had another illness." Arwyn interjected, trying to release her friend's father from the scrutinising glare of the prince.

"I don't think so!" Tom chuckled, "I felt like death itself, not enough strength in me to stir the air. Then suddenly, it just disappeared! I'm fitter than I have ever been."

Arthur narrowed his eyes, "Remarkable…was anyone with you when you _recovered_?"

"Just my daughter, Gwen."

"Stay here." The prince murmured in the princess' ear as he signalled for the guards to join him.

Within minutes, the small group of men had ransacked the blacksmith's house. Arwyn tapped her foot impatiently as she leant against the wall, only pushing herself off when Arthur returned with a determined expression and a glowing bag in his hand. As she viewed the object, her stomach dropped and her mind wandered to the assumption that the prince had undoubtedly reached: the poultice belonged to Guinevere.

"Arthur this is ridiculous!" Arwyn shouted as she jogged to keep up with him. His strides were much larger than hers as he stormed towards the castle. "There is no way that Gwen did this!"

"I can't take the risk."

Arwyn paused, a frown creasing her brow: "You sound like your father."

"He's right." Arthur shrugged simply as he continued to walk towards Lady Morgana's chambers. He had no doubt in his mind that she would follow him; she had never been one to give in without a fight.

"She will be executed and you have no proof that it was hers!"

"What do you want me to do? I cannot ignore the possibility!" Arthur retorted, turning to face her so quickly that she nearly crashed into his chest. His eyes were full of the fire that she had lit but as he viewed her expression, he sighed in defeat. She was one of the only people who could change his mind on anything, whether it was her charm or the feeling that he had when she looked at him disappointedly but she was also one of the most frustrating people that he had ever met. As his eyes trailed across her face, he knew that she wasn't going to approve of his next actions: "There's nothing else I can do. I have to arrest her, Arwyn." As he tried to reach out to her, she stubbornly stepped away from him – her jaw clenched as an emotion that he couldn't quite decipher flitted across her face before she looked away from him. "I'm sorry."

As Arthur looked at her sincerely, she turned and made her way down the upper corridor with the hope of finding Morgana. The princess had every intention of fighting her friend's case but she knew that if anyone could get through to Uther it was his ward. Her fists bunched at the waist of her dress as it swept the marble floors, lifting it slightly to prevent her from tripping. The strange looks that she received from the guards did nothing to dissuade her as she finally caught sight of the taller dark-haired girl as she spoke to one of the knights.

Gasping for breath, she halted: "Morgana!"

"Arwyn?" Her emerald eyes widened as she looked at the panicked look on her friend's face. "What's wrong?"

"Arthur has arrested Gwen. He thinks that she's the sorceress that started the plague." Arwyn rushed, "She's been brought in front of the council."

* * *

"Why will no one believe me?" Gwen cried, her voice echoing through the council chambers. "My father got better, he just recovered! I didn't _do_ anything!"

"I believe you." Morgana announced as she entered the chambers.

"As do I." Arwyn confirmed, taking her place beside Morgana as they publicly defended the handmaiden.

"Perhaps her father recovered naturally. Have you considered that?"

Uther's hardened stare glared at his ward as she spoke out against him. Tears continued to fall onto the tiles below the blacksmith's daughter – her shoulders shook with swallowed sobs and Arwyn wanted nothing more than to comfort her.

"A poultice was found in your house." The king informed the young girl, "Undo this enchantment. Put an end to this contagion."

"I can't!"

"I will show no mercy."

"I am not a witch!" Gwen cried out, her dark eyes clouded with tears of sorrow. Arwyn felt her heart clench, forcing her to look away from the girl in her moment of complete weakness. As her gaze met Arthur's she immediately looked away; it was true that his hands had been tied but it did not stop her from taking her frustration out on him. "I don't know how to stop the illness."

"If you will not undo your sorcery, you force my hand and I must find you guilty." Uther spoke, his tone passive and his expression stony. Subconsciously, Morgana clutched Arwyn's hand as they fought the wave of emotion that crashed into them. Squeezing her hand in response, the princess closed her eyes as she felt the weight behind the King's next words: "It is therefore my duty to pronounce judgement and under the circumstances, I have no choice but to sentence you to death." As Gwen cried out in protest, the helplessness in her tone forced a tear to cascade down the princess' cheek before she quickly banished it – refusing to show weakness. "I only hope that when you die, this evil plague dies with you."

As the noble young women released each other, they were forced apart by the guards who grabbed their friend with unnecessary force and dragged her from the council chambers. Until that moment, the princess would have thought that she had never felt true shame but as Guinevere was hauled like nothing but a sack of potatoes, Arwyn felt shameful that she had not done anything more to prevent it.

"I know Gwen, she's my maidservant, not an enchantress." Morgana spoke as she stepped towards her guardian, her eyes pleading with him.

"Have you ever seen an enchantress? Believe me, they bear no sign, no mark. There is no sense of evil in the eye."

"I've seen the way the girl works. Her fingers are worn, her nails are broken." As the King's ward continued to argue her case, Arwyn and Arthur stood in silence. "If she was a sorceress, why would she do this? Why would she kneel on a cold stone floor morning after morning when she could make these things happen with a snap of her fingers...Like an idle king!"

The fire in the young woman's eyes was evident and clearly matched with the anger that flashed across Uther's face as he shouted: "You have no right! I have a responsibility to take care of this kingdom! I take no pleasure in this!"

"But you're sentencing the wrong person!"

"She's right, Father." Arthur finally interjected, his tone much calmer than that of Morgana's. "You hear the word magic, you no longer listen."

"You saw it for yourself. She used enchantments." The King's expression was bewildered as his son challenged his judgement.

"Yes, maybe. But to save her dying father…"

"He saw nothing but a poultice." Arwyn interrupted Arthur's ramblings. As the attention was drawn to her, she stepped closer to the trio. "You have no proof that Gwen crafted it."

Uther sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose, evidently trying to jail his temper: "How else would you explain it?" He asked through gritted teeth.

Arwyn knew by his expression that she ought to tread lightly and so rather than speaking the first words that rolled to the tip of her tongue, she eagerly awaited a more diplomatic answer: "I have spent time with the people, she is loved throughout the village. Have you not considered that perhaps someone healed her father to ease her pain?"

"I cannot risk it." As the king repeated the words that Arthur had used, Arwyn fiercely bit the inside of her cheek to swallow an insolent retort. "I have witnessed what witchcraft can do. I have suffered at its hand. I cannot take that chance. If there is the slightest doubt about this girl, she must die or the whole kingdom may perish."

"I understand that." The prince added uselessly.

"One day you may become King. Then you will understand. Such decisions must be made. There are dark forces that threaten this kingdom." Uther explained as he sat down in his throne. His gaze soon turned to the wrathful expression behind the princess' usually kind eyes. "And perhaps when you are Queen, you will realise that it may be necessary to take the life of one for the wellbeing of the many regardless of how _soft_ you are."

Instinctively, Arthur swiftly placed a hand on the younger royal's arm as if trying to subtlety muzzle her: "I know. Witchcraft is an evil, father." He spoke with the diplomacy that Arwyn often failed to muster. "So is injustice. Yes, I am yet to be King, and I don't know what kind of king I will be, but I do have a sense of the kind of Camelot I would wish to live in. It would be where the punishment fits the crime."

"I fear you're right. She's played with fire, and sadly she must die by fire."

"You cannot take a person's life when you have little to prove your accusations!" Arwyn shot back, ripping her arm away from Arthur as Morgana ran out of the room. "You are wrong to view her life as meaningless because you associate it with magic."

Uther turned to look at the conviction in her eyes and the tint of red that brandished her cheeks: "You are just like your father, forever guilty of allowing your emotion to rule you."

Scoffing, Arwyn snapped: "And you are not? You are blinded by your hatred and it will be your downfall!"

In all honesty, the princess had expected to be punished as she allowed those words to fly out of her mouth like wildfire but she was left shocked and albeit a little irritated as her father's old friend elected to ignore her and calmly walked out of the council chambers. However, as her fists clenched in anger and she threw the doors open and stormed out of the room, she realised that his silence had left an intended impact. Slapping the cement fence that lined the balcony in frustration as her stormy eyes stared helplessly over the kingdom, she focussed on her breathing. The princess was not used to being ignored and it only angered her further as the feeling of helplessness resonated in her mind, reminding her of her lack of worth in Camelot.

"Your father will not see reason." She sighed upon hearing a set of footsteps that she knew to be Arthur's.

"Not when it comes to magic."

"And because of that an innocent girl is going to die and she will not be the last because _he_ will _never_ change." Her jaw clenched continuously as her gaze ripped through the man beside her. "What is the point in holding a title if I cannot use it to protect the people?"

Arthur paused for a moment, understanding the pressure that came from their responsibilities and the frustration of carrying out orders that he thought to be wrong: "You tried."

"And it was not good enough." She almost laughed humourlessly as she shook her head in defeat. A strong emotion evident in each word that she uttered. "It will _never_ be good enough in this kingdom."

The prince opened his mouth to respond but found himself at a loss for words. The princess had always been a wild spirit and exuded a strength that, even from an early age, he had envied and so, he was speechless as he saw the lack of power destroy her. As the silence grew between them, Arwyn shook her head and blinked back hot tears soon leaving Arthur with a similar feeling of helplessness as watched her walk away, her head hung low.

* * *

"My Lady, you are privileged with a place on the council, you ought to attend." Sir Geralt sighed, rubbing a gloved hand along his jawline.

"There is no point. My opinion counts for nothing." The stubborn princess answered, her poise regal as she sat on the windowsill of her bed chambers. "They view me as nothing but a naïve child and the fact that I am a woman degrades it even further."

"Perhaps it is up to you to change their minds."

"Not today." Drawing imaginary pictures on the windowpane, she sighed defeatedly. Never in her life had she felt like such a disgrace to herself; she had never been one to give in but she was backed into a corner.

"Do you wish to visit Gwen then?"

"I cannot face her." She answered with nothing but a whisper, finally drawing her gaze from the afternoon which, despite the roaring sunshine seemed a whole lot gloomier. She looked up at the man that had been her protector since her name day, biting back tears of raw emotion. "There is nothing that I can do for her and I don't want to have to tell her that I failed to save her life."

"Perhaps you could visit Merlin? He always cheers you up." The knight tried once more but as she shook her head with a solemn expression, he sighed gruffly. "Up. _Now._ " She groaned in protest as the man grabbed her arm and dragged her to the door. "One cannot be the hero of her own story if she refuses to leave her room, my Lady."

* * *

The princess sighed as she left the blacksmith's house; perhaps she was naïve enough to think that looking after him would make her feel better about his daughter's fate. However, after successfully filling the man's kitchen with fresh fruit, vegetables, breads and meats that were fit for a king, she felt nothing but the gnawing emptiness that had acquainted itself with her; breeding with the helplessness. Never in her twenty years had the young royal found herself in such a bind. She was reckless enough to risk anything for those that she cared about yet as she walked back to the castle, she felt powerless in the struggle between doing the right thing and a lack of authority. Arwyn was certainly not used to the circumstances as she had grown up with a prominent presence as the only heir to her father's kingdom. To have her voice stripped from her by a man who is no more willing to listen than to lose his only son was simply infuriating as she lacked the experience to overcome the dilemma.

Having decided that Sir Geralt had been right, she elected to visit Merlin in the hope that his optimism had put a rescue plan into action. She had wanted to scold him for trying to take the girl's place on the pyre but she couldn't find the heart as he opened the old wooden door with a loud creak.

"Is there anything I can do to help? You have a plan, don't you?" Arwyn asked, her eyes pleading as she looked at the serving boy. "I…I just need to do something."

Merlin paused for a second as he debated telling her everything he knew without spilling his secret: "There's a creature in the water supply so _we_ need to find a way to kill it if we are going to prove Gwen's innocence."

Nodding, she smiled as a glimmer of hope was ignited within her: "Where do we start?"

Merlin grinned at her as he pointed at the walls that were lined with Gaius' lifelong collection of books. Within seconds, the duo were up and down ladders carrying massive piles of books and dumping them on the table and the surrounding floor.

Once they had successfully cleared the bookcases, the pair settled down on the floor with a cup of tea made from rationed water as they flicked through numerous pages. Much of the faded ink was written in languages that Arwyn had never even seen before let alone could read and so she had swiftly discarded them into their 'useless' pile.

"What on earth are you doing?" Gaius shouted as he threw open the wooden door to his chambers, his eyes widened at the mess before they landed on the princess and his ward as they sat curled up on the floor in a nest of dusty books.

"Looking for a book." They both mumbled in unison, neither lifting their eyes to look at him. Arwyn rubbed her eyes as they ached with strain before she lifted her head from Merlin's shoulder and placed another book into the large pile beside her.

The court physician almost chuckled as he viewed their unlikely friendship: "Mind telling me what book?"

"A book of elements." His ward muttered in response, picking up another book.

"Why?"

"Merlin thinks that it can help us to kill the Alf…" Pausing, the princess turned to her friend: "What did you was it again?"

"An Afanc." Merlin corrected with a smile before turning to his guardian. "There's nothing in any of these books that help…"

"Well that's because the study of base elements is at the very heart of the scientific process." Gaius explained as the young royal muttered something along the lines of _'I told you so'._ "However, the Afanc is a creature made of earth and water. That's two of the basic elements."

"What about the other two?"

Merlin looked to the older man eagerly as Arwyn piped up from beside him: "Wind and fire." She smiled before a look of realisation dawned on her expression and she slammed the book shut – earning a chuckle from the servant as a face full of dust caused her to cough. "Maybe that will kill it! Although, I am not sure how we could use wind but the torches would give us fire."

Gaius couldn't help but smile as the pair grinned triumphantly at one another. The princess soon stood up, stretching her arms above her head with a weary groan before she picked up a pile of books and made her way over to the bookcase. Taking the opportunity whilst she was out of earshot, the physician looked to the sorcerer: "How did you find out about the elements?" He whispered, his voice low.

"Oh…it's just one of my powers."

As the boy shrugged, a frown of suspicion crossed the old man's brow: "And what else do these powers tell you?"

"That I am but one side of a coin." Merlin responded, tilting his head as he added, "The brighter side, obviously."

"And who's the other side?"

Merlin thought for a moment as he glanced over his guardian's shoulder to the princess who was now descending the ladder before he leaned in closer and whispered: "I think that might be Arthur whilst Arwyn is the force that binds us."

"How very insightful…"

The trio soon jumped as the door to the chambers was thrown open to reveal a panicked Morgana. Their hearts leapt into their throats as they were told that Gwen's execution had been brought forward and panic soon set in as they realised that despite their breakthrough, they still lacked a plan of action.

"Please just tell me what I can do to help." The king's ward begged, desperation tainting her expression as her eyes pleading with the physician and his ward.

"We need Arthur." Merlin announced, glancing between his companions. As he told the older woman about the monster in the kingdom's water supply, her face dropped to one of confusion.

"Well then we must tell Uther!"

Arwyn shook her head: "He would not listen."

"The Afanc is a creature forged by magic." Gaius interrupted, "Telling Uther will not save Gwen, he'd just accuse her of conjuring it."

"We need to destroy it. Then the plague will stop and Uther may see sense." All eyes were on Merlin as he spoke; a silent air of hopefulness soon spread through them.

Morgana nodded in understanding: "And that's why we need Arthur."

"He's our best chance but he won't want to disobey the king."

A look of determination soon contorted the young woman's face as she set her jaw and nodded, taking a hold of Arwyn's arm and dragging her towards the door: "Leave that to us."

* * *

"If this fails, I am going to release her." Arwyn muttered, her voice low as they waited for Arthur in his chambers. Morgana's eyes widened in shock as she looked at her friend. "She and her father could relocate to my father's kingdom. They would be safe there." She continued, "It is not ideal but at least she would be alive."

Morgana's eyes surveyed the young girl before she nodded: "And you would have my support."

As Arwyn smiled, Arthur burst through the door looking flustered until his gaze landed on the two: "Are you alright?" He asked, "Sorry about all of this, Merlin hasn't been in today."

"And you couldn't possibly put anything away yourself." Arwyn whipped, only to wince as Morgana stomped on her foot and sent her a warning glare. Her face reddened as she bit her lip and her foot throbbed lightly.

"Poor Merlin." The king's ward went on to say. Arthur nodded in agreement, completely oblivious to the silent argument that his companions were having. "To offer up his life to save Gwen's…I certainly can't imagine anyone loving me so much."

"No, I certainly can't imagine that either." Arthur retorted.

Morgana smirked lightly as she looked at Arwyn for help but as her gaze remained on the window, the older girl elbowed her in the ribs.

Jumping at the impact, Arwyn added: "Me neither." With a shrug but as Morgana glared and Arthur laughed, she added: "I mean…uh…" As the prince grinned in amusement before turning towards the chest of drawers, the princess turned to her friend with a low whisper: "Will you stop hitting me!"

"You're supposed to be helping ask him for help."

"Why can't we just ask him outright?"

"You know, you aren't like Merlin." Morgana continued, as Arthur returned and looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "He's a lover."

As the words reached her ears, Arwyn bit down on her lip to hold back a laugh at the idea of Merlin and romance. Covering it up with a cough, she walked to the windowsill to avoid Morgana's wrath.

"Yes, maybe that's because I haven't found the right person to love." Arthur retorted, looking to Arwyn which only deepened the smirk that coated the lips of the king's ward. He watched the princess' expression fall as she watched the guards below build the tall pyre for Gwen's execution. Approaching her, he grazed her arm to grasp her attention - noting the lack of incessant teasing and witty interjections: "What can I do?"

Arwyn turned away from the sordid scene below, glanced to Morgana who nodded and then to the prince as he watched her, his eyes filled with concern. "There is a monster in the water supply." She explained softly. "We need to kill it to stop the disease."

"Then we need to tell my father."

"It was conjured by magic, telling him won't prove Gwen's innocence." She sighed, repeating Gaius' words. Placing a hand on his arm, she looked up into his eyes as Morgana fought a smirk. "I know that it's a lot to ask and I have no right but I can't do it without you…"

Arthur's lips parted slightly as he realised what she was asking of him: "You want me to disobey my father?"

The princess tugged her bottom lip between her teeth as she adverted her gaze back to the window and Morgana spoke up: "It's the only way to save Gwen."

The blonde glanced over to the brunette in the blue dress before turning back to Arwyn as she sighed softly and looked up at him: "Okay." He nodded, his eyes wandering over her face as he placed a hand on top of hers. "I'll do it."

* * *

"He was putty in your hands." Morgana muttered as the girls followed Arthur towards the water cavern where they were to meet Merlin. Arwyn rolled her eyes as she looked at her friend, the amusement evident in her eyes as she grinned. "You may just be more manipulative than I am…"

"Consider me insulted."

The young women smirked at each other before grabbing their torches and entering the cavern with the prince and his manservant.

"You better be right about this, Merlin." Arthur muttered, only to be interrupted but a deep growl that echoed through the cave, shaking the walls and causing a number of tiny pebbles to fall to the floor. Morgana gasped lightly in shock. "You should stay here."

"I'm coming with you." She responded with a look of determination on her face but as her guardian's son shook his head, she tilted hers: "Scared I'll show you up?"

"Father will slam us both in chains if he knew that I endangered you." Arthur tried to reason.

"Well good thing he doesn't know about it then."

"I'm telling you, Morgana, turn back." His tone was filled with authority as he ordered the young woman that was like a sister to him to stay at a safe distance. "You could get hurt."

"You could too..." The girl smiled, "if you don't get out of my way."

Merlin and Arwyn grinned in amusement as Arthur rolled his eyes. However, the princess' face soon fell as the prince turned to her: "You certainly aren't going."

"I would _love_ to see you try and stop me." Arwyn responded as Arthur stepped closer to her and took the torch out of her hand. "So, you expect me to stand here all alone…in the dark? _Great plan_."

Arthur fought the urge to roll his eyes at her: "Your father would march an entire army to Camelot if he found out about this."

"Don't be so dramatic…" Arwyn scoffed, rolling eyes before a smirk settled on her face. "It would only take a small fraction of men to topple this hovel." Arthur scowled, increasing her smirk. "And at least on the bright side, if I am dead then I don't have to marry _you_." As she took her torch out of his hand, Arthur opened his mouth to retort before frowning whilst she walked away from him and their companions snickered in amusement. "Well, are you coming or not?" The princess called over her shoulder, turning back to the prince as he stared at her before declaring that the small group should split up.

Instinctively, Arwyn made to follow Morgana until a hand grasped her arm and forced her down a different path: "Nope, you are with me." Arthur ordered, releasing her as she raised an eyebrow at him. "I don't fancy going to war because I let something happen to you."

As they stepped further into the cavern, Arwyn had considered making a sarcastic remark about chivalry in response but instead, settled for: "Thank you for this."

"You're welcome."

Suddenly, Arwyn grabbed his hand and pulled him back towards her: "Wait! I thought I saw something." Spinning around to light the darkness with the flames of their torches, the royals found themselves alone. Upon realising that she still had a firm grip of his hand, Arwyn cleared her throat awkwardly and released it. "Sorry…"

Arthur stared at her for a moment, the worry was evident on her expression as the flames from his torch danced in her irises and illuminated her skin in a golden glow. Suddenly, a low growl snapped their heads to their left, reminding them of the potentially mortal danger that they were in. As a massive black figure appeared in front of them, the prince pushed the princess behind him, causing her to drop her torch as the creature swiped at them with giant claws. Upon hearing the commotion, Morgana and Merlin appeared by their side just as the Afanc disappeared.

Arthur turned to the royal behind him, concern written across his expression as he surveyed her and muttered: "Are you alright?

"Did you see it?" Merlin asked as Arwyn breathlessly nodded in response to Arthur before bending down to pick up her discarded torch from the sandy floor. After a moment, the prince turned his attentions to his manservant and nodded in confirmation. "What did it look like?"

A shadow loomed over them causing Arwyn's jaw to drop as she pointed behind the manservant: "That. Watch out!"

The Afanc attacked once more, lurching at the King's ward and knocking the torch out of her hand. Morgana's scream reverberated throughout the cavern prompting the princess to immediately disregard the danger and run to her as she landed on the floor. Arthur circled the beast with his sword drawn. As he swung towards it, giant claws launched the blade away. Arwyn and Morgana crouched on the floor as Merlin called out:

"Arthur, use your torch!"

As Arthur lunched forward with his torch lifted into the air, an ice-cold wind rushed through the tunnels of the cavern causing the young women to shiver as it tugged at their hair. The icy hand of the breeze yanked violently at the flames, pulling them towards the monster and covering it in a fiery blanket. The cavern soon silenced as the wind died down and the Afanc was incinerated with an indescribable heat. Immediately, Arthur offered a hand to Arwyn and helped her stand, a shell-shocked expression cradling her features as she offered a hand to Morgana. The magical beast was dead and they had proven Gwen's innocence yet the princess could not shake the feeling of disbelief in what she had just witnessed; the convenient timing of the wind as it seemingly manifested out of nowhere just as they needed it. Her brow furrowed in contemplation and her piercing gaze went to Merlin with masked confusion as he placed a hand on her shoulder. Turning to him, she asked:

"Where did that breeze come from?"

* * *

The evening air grew cooler as she sat on the hill outside of the castle walls. She was exhausted but sleep had failed to acquaint itself with her and so she had allowed her feet to wander. Her mind twisted and turned as she struggled with her position, unable to express her feelings in an appropriate manner and feeling more alone than ever. As she heard footsteps from behind, her hand grasped the dagger at her waist but as she snapped her gaze to her companion, she visibly relaxed.

"How did you know I was here?" Arwyn muttered, picking at the grass at her feet as she returned her stare to the horizon.

"A hunch." The prince answered, recalling the hill that the pair had always run to when they were escaping their nursemaid. "Guinevere was looking for you. Are you alright? I know that this hasn't exactly been easy for you."

Pursing her lips, she silently debated if she wanted to be honest with the young man but as his gaze pierced her, she sighed: "I just…I feel completely lost. In Camelot, I am utterly useless. Nothing but a pretty face in a frilly dress."

"Well, a mediocre face in a frilly dress." He grinned, nudging his shoulder into hers and forcing her to smile despite herself.

"My word counts for nothing here and your father expects me to stay here forever."

"It means something to me." Arthur responded, looking out across the fields. "Despite our differences, I do value your council."

Nodding ever-so-slightly, she looked at him with a soft sigh: "I just wish we could go back to a time when the world seemed so much smaller…" A moment of silence engulfed them as her blue-green eyes wandered to the tallest tree at the bottom of the hill, a reminiscent smile coated her face: "Do you remember the day that I finally beat you to the top? You said you would beat me up for it."

Following her gaze to the tree, a slight smirk toyed at his lips, "As I recall, that was also the day that you dared me to kiss you but ran away from me when I tried."

Arwyn snapped her gaze to meet his, a deadpan expression on her face as she stated: "I stand by that decision."

"You tripped on the steps and ripped your dress. The nursemaid was furious that we had eluded her again."

She smiled as the memory returned to her: "I still have that scar on my knee, Mary was mortified by the ugly stitches. She was our fourth nanny that month…"

"Your father found it funny that we had forced each of them to quit – said that we would be an awful pair when we were older but my father was furious." The prince laughed, shaking his head as he looked at her: "We were always in trouble with him."

"I guess some things never change…that was my last summer here."

Arthur hummed in response as he toyed with the strap on his brown leather boots, his head tilted so that he could look at her: "We were a lot closer then."

"We were just children." The princess answered, her whisper nearly lost in the evening breeze but her words ringing true. A sadness suddenly overcame them as the sun began to set and they realised how much things had changed between them. "And you weren't as entitled." The girl finally grinned, glancing at his expression.

Arthur scoffed as she stood up before he followed suit, a mischievous glint in his eye as he turned to her: "I bet you still can't beat me to the steps."

Arwyn frowned slightly until she looked over his shoulder to the palace walls and realised what he was suggesting. As she opened her mouth to respond, the blonde prince took off - his boots flattening the grass with every rushed stride.

"Arthur! You always cheat." She called after him, folding her arms over her chest as she remained in her spot.

Grinning, the young man halted and turned to face her; suddenly looking a lot younger and happier than he had in years. As she raised an eyebrow at him, his grin only grew until he called back with a shrug:

"A dragon wouldn't give you a head start."


	6. CHAPTER 5

_A/N:_

 _I'm so sorry for my disappearing act but you will be happy to know that I have found some more time for writing! I hope this super long chapter makes up for it :)_

 _Please let me know what you all think. Thank you for your support and readership, I promise to update a lot sooner this time!_

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own BBC's Merlin, their characters nor their plot. I do however own the Princess Arwyn and Sir Geralt. Their character and story arcs remain my intellectual property.

The early morning air was cold as the sun battled with the moon and the clouds, eager to share its warmth with the world. Mist surrounded the lower town and the tiny blades of grass that rose through the muddy paths were coated in tiny droplets of dew. The town was empty as the villagers remained jailed in their slumber. The only sound was the cheerful songs of the birds in the trees as they awoke to a new day. The dark green hood of the princess' cloak cradled her as she tiptoed down the winding paths of the kingdom. Sleep had long abandoned her. She had always loved the loneliness that the small hours of the day allowed – the quiet time to reflect or to momentarily rid one's mind of the troubles and responsibilities that ensued as the kingdom began to wake.

The first shutters and curtains were beginning to open as the town's occupants came to life and so she knew that she ought to return to the castle. The heat of her breath created a gentle fog in the crisp air as she exhaled a soft sigh. Today was the day that Lord Bayard declared peace with Camelot and so soon, the dew-covered blades of grass on the muddy paths would be ripped from their home by the hooves of foreign horses and the cheerful songs of the birds in the trees would be drowned out by the idle chatter of newfound friends and allies.

Silently, she reached up and slowly removed her hood, allowing her long waves to fall over the shoulder of her cloak. Her thin leather shoes kissed the marble floors as she made her way back into the castle. It was peaceful; the calm before the storm. A couple of servants began their daily duties, pausing only to bow to the young royal.

"You are up early." The deep tones of the man's voice were croaky as he spoke for the first time that morning. Startled by the break in her lonesome reverie, she turned to face the aging man. His crown sat atop his head in its usual manner yet his face held an expression that the young princess had not seen in years. "Walk with me?" Nodding, Arwyn gingerly placed her hand on his outstretched arm, allowing him to guide her. "I come here often." The king spoke as they entered the royal gardens. "Early in the morning before the kingdom rises. Your mother loved the gardens here so much that your father had our gardener transported to the Distant Isles to design her a garden of her own."

A gentle smile spread across the princess' face as she looked up at the man who was once her father's best friend: "She was always out there…near the end." The smile fell from her face as she recalled some of her most painful memories. Swallowing heavily, she shook her head. "I don't remember much about her – just a faceless woman in faded memories. I can't even remember the colour of her hair."

Uther glanced down at the young girl as she bit the inside of her cheek and perched herself on the edge of the fountain, running her fingers through the falling water – a wistful expression on her face.

"Red." He responded, sitting down beside her despite the occasional spirt of water that dampened his cloak. He smiled softly as she turned her gaze to him, a grateful glint in her sea green eyes. Motioning to the guard, Uther held out a hand: "I have something for you. A gift." A frown creased her brow as she watched the knight present an object wrapped in a red fabric, to the king. "During your last summer in Camelot, I had promised you that when you were old enough, I would have one crafted for you."

Her frown deepened as the King slowly removed the red rag but as the fresh morning sunlight sparked against gold, her eyebrows rose in surprise. Carefully, she reached forward to retrieve it – holding it up as she examined the craftsmanship.

"It's beautiful, Sire." She breathed, her voice so gentle that it was barely a whisper. The ornate scabbard was a deep green with golden decoration featuring the intricate twists of the Celtic knots that originated in her kingdom. The blade was small and delicate; thin at the hilt and widening slightly in the centre before coming to a point. The colourings of the sheath were mirrored in the hilt as the knots twisted to the top, ending at the imprint of a dragon. "Thank you."

Smiling as the young girl ran her fingertips over the dragon insignia that lay at the butt of the hilt, Uther spoke once more: "Perhaps this may serve as a reminder that I do care about your wellbeing." The sincerity of his tone caught her by surprise. "Yes, I would like you to marry Arthur but I do not want you to think that I only view you as his future wife. As a child, you were like the daughter I never had and I believe that your presence here is a second chance to rebuild the friendship that I once had with your father." Arwyn looked away from the man, slight confusion brewing as she aimed to understand his motives – ultimately concluding that perhaps, rather than a manipulation, the old Pendragon was trying to make amends with the stubborn young woman. "I am not your enemy and I will respect any decision that you make regarding your future. I want you to remember that." As the princess nodded, the king smiled before rising from his position on the edge of the fountain and placing a light peck on her forehead. "Lord Bayard's men will be upon us shortly, I must return to the preparations."

* * *

"Merlin, get changed!" The prince ordered for perhaps the one hundredth time that morning, his tone tired. Growing irritated by his manservant, he threw the bundle of robes at him with as much force as the light fabric would allow. A faint knocking on the tall wooden doors drew his attention as his servant muttered under his breath. Noting the lack of movement from Merlin, Arthur rolled his eyes with a sigh and dragged his feet across the floor to answer the door himself.

"Are you alright?" Merlin asked – beating the prince to it – as his light blue gaze landed on the princess, a light frown of confusion still coating her features as she delved deeper into thought.

Humming in response, the young woman barely glanced at him before her eyes sought out the blonde man beside her: "Your father has requested that we coordinate our outfits for the feast. What colour is your shirt?"

"Red." The prince answered, looking down at a pile of papers that lay strewn across his table.

Her expression remained flat as she stared at him evenly. Her eyes threatened to roll as he looked at her plainly, aware of her attitude but oblivious to her expectations. The princess sighed, waving an arm to motion for a couple of servants who curtsied politely afore the prince before presenting two dresses, doing their best to avoid sweeping the stone floor with the expensive fabric: "Which _shade_ of red?"

Glancing up, Arthur shrugged and made his way to her side. His right hand cradled his chin in feigned thought as the smaller royal looked up at him, an impatient expression. His face crumpled as he examined the expensive dresses – both a shade of red with golden needlework; the Pendragon colours. As the young woman sighed roughly through her nose, he leant down – his nose brushed the side of her head and his breath tickled her ear as he whispered: "They're both red."

"And you're an idiot."

As the blonde Pendragon was sent a pointed look with a hint of disdain, a soft chuckle sounded from behind the wooden changing screen and echoed through the airy chambers, reminding the prince and the princess that they were not alone: "Wear the one on the left!" The cheerful voice called out. "It's more of a bright crimson, like his shirt."

"I didn't know you were such a girl, Merlin." Arthur smirked in jest as Arwyn rolled her eyes and thanked the serving boy whilst sending her maids away with their next list of duties as Merlin remarked that he was not the one coordinating colours. "Will you hurry up? How long does it take to try on a robe for size?"

Turning around at the sound of the muffled mutterings spilling out of younger boy's mouth, Arwyn was met with a sight that she doubted she could ever forget. Her sea green gaze landed securely on Merlin in the outfit that Arthur had selected for him. Laughter bubbled in her chest and her face turned pink as she bit her lip to contain it. The raven-haired boy stood in front of her in a bright red tunic displaying the Pendragon crest, an oversized cloak that was really more of a cape and a large red hat that sprouted enormous green and red feathers. As she stared at him a little longer, her mind forgot to remind her to be polite and so the caged laughter soon erupted from her.

"What?" Merlin asked, confusion on his face as the young woman placed a hand over her mouth and tried to remember to breath. "These are the ceremonial robes…" He went on to explain, as if she didn't know.

Arwyn wiped the tears that glistened at the corner of her eyes before biting her laugh once more. Tilting her head to the side, she pursed her lips: "Are they?" she asked, her voice pitchy as another laugh threatened to escape her.

Grinning, Arthur placed a warm hand on his servant's shoulder as he confirmed, "Why, yes they are."

"Do I have to wear the hat?" Merlin groaned, blowing one of the feathers out of his face and scowling as it tickled his nose.

"I think that's my favourite part." The princess choked out, erupting into laughter once again as she noted the serious expression that creased his brow and darkened his eyes under the shadow of the feathers.

"You are just as bad as _him._ " Merlin muttered, scowling at the delight of his friend. "You really do make a wonderful couple." As the amusement slid off Arwyn and Arthur's faces in perfect synchronisation, the manservant grinned wickedly, knowing that he had hit a nerve. However, his glee was short-lived as he was simultaneously slapped by an apple and a goblet. Unsure of who had thrown what, the boy put his hands on his hips and called out: "See? You're even aggressive in sync!" before swiftly ducking from the next assault and running out of the chambers, returning only for a second to collect the boots that he was ordered to polish the previous morning.

* * *

The brunette wrinkled her nose as she pulled at the fabric of her dress: "Red is not my colour." She mumbled childishly as she entered the hall of ceremonies for the feast before grabbing a goblet of wine from one of the servers and gulping it.

"Well you had better start making it your colour." Sir Geralt chuckled, his head thrown back slightly and the corners of his eyes wrinkled in amusement as they glistened with a joy that seemed foreign. Shaking his head at her unladylike manner, the knight swiftly picked the goblet out of her hand and placed it on a table before nudging her further into the celebrations. Flaring her nostrils in annoyance, the princess scowled at her companion only to be met with a smirk spread against scarred lips. "Smile, and make your introductions." The older man reminded the stubborn young girl, "You are representing your father." Another gruff laugh escaped him as the girl rolled her head to look at him, plastering an overly enthusiastic grin on her face. "Less manic and you're set."

Grinning at her guard, Arwyn began the tiresome duty of introducing herself to anyone of importance until she was approached by Lord Bayard, the king of Mercia. His eyes were dark and cunning. His expression as straight as the crown that lay atop his greying shoulder-length hair.

"Princess. It is a pleasure to meet you." The older man smiled kindly, placing a chaste kiss across her knuckles as she bowed in respect.

"The pleasure is mine, My Lord." She smiled lightly, rising from her curtsy and running her hands down her skirt to smooth the crinkled fabric.

"Tell me, Your Highness, how fares your father?" The man asked.

"He is well, My Lord. I received a raven from him not two days ago, with news of our bountiful harvest. Our market is fruitful."

"I may request a raven be sent to him." Lord Bayard pondered, scratching his chin as he looked at the young royal. "Our harvest did not fare as well as we had expected. Perhaps a trade route may be established along our coastline."

Sir Geralt smiled as he watched the interaction, proud of the princess that he was charged to protect. Despite her impulsivity and lack of interest, she had held herself with poise and authority during the short encounter – easily manoeuvring the king into a position that benefitted her father's kingdom. As the brunette bid farewell to the man, she nodded to her knight with a knowing smirk before finally taking her place at Arthur's side.

"I can't believe that you made him wear the hat." Arwyn muttered to the prince who followed her gaze to Merlin. The servant stood out like a sore thumb, obviously dressed more elaborately than the rest of the servers who had worn their usual clothes.

Snorting in amusement, Arthur turned to her: "Something had to entertain me during Bayard's monotony." He responded, his voice low to avoid being overheard. "Look at his face!"

The young pair glanced over at their friend as the kings signed the peace treaty. His expression pitiful with a hint of red brandishing his cheeks. Feeling their stares, Merlin glanced up at the top table – only to scowl childishly as both Arthur and Arwyn raised their goblets to him in jest, identical grins of amusement tugging at the corners of their lips. The trio were soon removed from their private, silent conversation as Uther finished signing the treaty that bound Camelot and Mercia. The crowd soon applauded in celebration as the men grasped arms as a sign of union.

"People of Camelot," Lord Bayard addressed the court, "for a great many years we have been mortal enemies, and the blood of our men stains the ground from the walls of Camelot to the gates of Mercia. And though we remember those who have died, we must not allow any more to join them." Arwyn watched as a serving girl shyly stepped forward carrying a wooden box. "As a symbol of our goodwill, and of our newfound friendship, I present these ceremonial goblets to you, Uther, and to your son, Arthur, in the hope that our friendship may last." As the king of Mercia presented the ruler of Camelot and his heir with the goblets, the princess found that she understood Arthur's earlier comment; Lord Bayard certainly liked the sound of his own voice. "Tonight, we toast a new beginning for our people. We look towards a future free from the toils of war." Biting back a yawn, she looked up into the crowd – her eyes seeking Merlin, only to find him absent. Interlacing her fingers and twiddling her thumbs on her lap, she realised that she had stopped listening. "…and may the differences from our past remain there. To your health, Uther." _Finally!_ She thought as she rose from her seat, set to join the kingdoms in a toast. "Arthur." As the man paused, the courtiers lifted their goblets to their lips, only to pause as he opened his mouth once more. "The Lady Morgana." He nodded, pausing. Arthur lifted his goblet impatiently only to be stopped by Bayard once more. "The Princess Arwyn." Smiling politely to the man, Arwyn glanced sideways to Arthur who met her stare with a subtle eyeroll, sharing her boredom. Biting the inside of her lip to mask her amusement, the princess removed her gaze from the prince. "The people of Camelot." The longwinded man continued.

"And to fallen warriors on both sides." Uther interjected as Arwyn stared at her wine longingly, wanting nothing more than to drink its entirety to numb the tedium – an action that would, without a doubt, breed a thorough scolding and a lecture on the etiquette of a lady, delivered by a man who drank more wine than any one kingdom could produce. A seemingly unwanted side effect of having to famously "drink a vineyard in its entirety" to cure himself of a scorned lover's curse.

As the toasts finally ended, goblets were brought to lips with the urgency that the young royals at the top table had evidently shared.

"Stop!" A familiar voice screamed out, "It's poisoned! Don't drink it!" Merlin suddenly appeared afore them, snatching the goblet out of Arthur's hand as Uther questioned the young boy.

"Merlin, what are you doing?" Arthur asked through gritted teeth, his cheeks and the tips of his ears tinted red with embarrassment.

"Bayard laced Arthur's goblet with poison."

Bayard scoffed at the accusations – declaring it an outrage. The sound of metal against leather battered the stone walls as the king of Mercia and his men drew their swords, prompting an identical response from the knights of Camelot. Instinctively, Sir Geralt positioned himself beside his princess; his dark eyes narrowed and his scarred lip curled in warning, his hand firmly on the hilt of his sword – the quarrel was not their own and so he would not draw unless it became imperative to Arwyn's safety.

"Order your men to put down their swords." Uther warned, standing from his throne and exuding authority as the guards rushed in. The wooden doors battered the stone walls as their footsteps, heavy under the weight of their armour, clamoured against the thick stony floor. "You are outnumbered."

"I will not allow this insult to go unchallenged!" Bayard argued. The princess' calculating stare, examined the Lord's expression. His face burning pink with rage yet a hint of desperation could be deciphered from the pinch between his eyebrows and the glassy appearance of his eyes. The long silver blade in his hand trembled, begging to defend him but the man stood tall. Pride was evident in his demeanour.

Clenching his jaw, Uther turned his stony stare back to the serving boy: "On what grounds do you base this accusation?" The whispers of speculation that bounced round the room like an echo, could be heard over the heavy silence that suffocated the top table. As Arthur skirted to the front of the table and attempted to blame Merlin's illusory addiction to sloe gin, his father's expression only grew darker. Deep frown lines now contorted his brow as his pale green eyes bore holes into the silent boy. "Unless you want to be strung up, you will tell me why you think it's poisoned, _now_."

The raven-haired boy met the princess' curious gaze in search of support. As he received a pretty smile and a nod that encouraged him to continue, he spoke: "He was seen lacing it."

"By whom?"

"I can't say."

Beside her, the knight of the Distant Isles sighed softly in what appeared to be disappointment. Loyalty was and had always been the most important thing to the greying man and so his attitude had surprised the young princess who looked to him. Her brows almost grazed her hairline as she sent him a questioning glance which was met with an even stare as the accused Lord grew impatient still: "I won't listen to this anymore!"

"Pass me the goblet." Uther ordered, holding his hand out with an impatience that mirrored that of his purportedly newfound ally. As he wrinkled his fingers once more, Arthur placed the silver goblet of wine into his outstretched grasp. "If you are telling the truth…"

" _I am_."

"Then you have nothing to fear, do you?" As the king of Camelot held the goblet out to Lord Bayard, the man in question sheathed his sword and reached out to collect it. It was that moment that convinced the princess of his innocence. "No." Uther suddenly stopped, drawing the wine away from the man. "If this does prove to be poisoned, I want the pleasure of killing you myself." Arwyn's heart stopped as the goblet was moved towards the first friend that she had made upon arriving in the famed kingdom. "He'll drink it."

Arthur – sharing the girl's panic – turned to his father: "But if it is poisoned, he'll die!"

"Then we'll know he was telling the truth."

"No." Arwyn's mouth opened before she had even considered interjecting. "You can't let him drink it!" She pleaded, turning to the King: "Sire, _please_. You have tasters for a reason."

The desperation in her tone caught the attention of the stubborn King. He glanced at her as she silently begged him. Opening his mouth to respond, he was interrupted by the King of Mercia: "And what if he lives?"

Tearing his gaze from the subtle indignant frown that had planted itself on the brow of the princess, Uther answered nonchalantly: "Then you have my apologies, and you can do with him as you will."

"Uther, please! He's just a boy!" Gaius beseeched his old friend and employer. "He doesn't know what he's saying!"

"Then you should've schooled him better."

Arwyn's eyes grew terrified as Merlin refused to allow Arthur to drink it in his place. The goblet slowly rose in the air as the boy conducted a silent toast to the man he was accusing, before lowering to his pale pink lips which had been stretched into a long thin line. Holding her breath, she instinctively gripped Sir Geralt's armoured arm – anxiety coursing through her veins quicker than her blood. Her vision blurred as her brain pounded from lack of air and her fingertips dug into her protector with a physical strength that had always been foreign to her. She could almost hear the wine slip down his throat as his Adam's apple bobbed with a steady gulp. Her eyes widened and awaited the verdict as her guardian clasped her hand tightly in attempted comfort.

"It's fine." The boy breathed.

"He's all yours." Uther sighed, silently ordering his men to stand down. Arwyn released the breath that she had been holding and gently removed her hand from the knight's arm – she would find a way to rescue the servant from the death penalty that would ultimately ensue. The feast swiftly continued as if nothing had happened and the bright chatter and gossip of the courtiers soon filled the hall of ceremonies once more.

Merlin smiled sheepishly at the princess as she met his gaze, relief evident in her expression. The moment was, however, short-lived. His hand flew to his throat as his face crumpled. Her eyes widened as she forced her seat away from her. A choked cough bubbled in his throat as the king ordered the Mercian men's arrests. The noise in the room seemed to ebb away as the world went silent – her ears hearing nothing but the hammering in her chest. Everything appeared to fall into slow motion as her friend hit the floor, his head bouncing on the stone tiles and the goblet rolling away from his unconscious hand. Her mind went blank with panic as she pushed her guard out of her way and rushed to the boy's side:

"Merlin? Merlin, open your eyes." Her hands trembled as they patted his pale face, begging for him to wake and tell her it was all a sick joke. "He's struggling to breathe!" She spoke urgently as the court physician landed in front of her; her shocked ears picking up the impeded wheeze that escaped the boy's lips.

"Merlin. Can you hear me?" Gaius asked, checking his ward's vitals. Arwyn's fearful eyes threatened to cry as they met Gwen's briefly before seeking out Arthur who had appeared beside her. Neither of them spoke as there were no words to describe the sinking feelings in their chests. As the prince clutched her hand to comfort her, she realised that her hands were not the only pair that tremored. "We have to get him back to my chambers." The physician spoke up, pulling their gaze back to him. "Gwen, bring the goblet. I need to identify the poison."

* * *

As Gwen and Gauis bustled around, collecting towels and water to treat the young boy, Arwyn felt useless. She had no special skill or knowledge that could save her friend's life; no solution and no plan. Helplessly, she stood a few feet from the end of the patient bed. As Arthur placed him down, she stared at his fading expression until something in corner of her eye caught her attention. _A young girl stood at the end of the wooden bed in the tiny room filled with potions and healing herbs galore. Her lip quivered and her hands trembled as she tried to maintain composure. Tried with all the might and maturity of someone four times her age._ Arwyn's mouth gaped open slightly as she stared at the child; her brunette hair was long and tied back behind her head in a simple style and her dress was a pale blue with crystal littered across it. Following the little girl's stare, she glanced to the bed to find that Merlin was no longer there. _A beautiful woman lay across the tiny single bed. Her red hair darkened by the cold sweat that shook her to the core. Her skin was sickly white and paler than the rags that lay across her forehead to cool her down._ Arwyn's breath hitched in her throat as she saw the man beside the bed. _The king's eyes were tired yet still held a famed kindness. His golden crown cradled his head as he planted a gentle yet lingering kiss on his wife. Turning towards the doorway, his gaze landed on his only child, softening at the sight of her terrified expression hidden in the darkness of the doorway._

 _"_ _It's alright, sweetheart." He spoke, his voice tender and endearing as he held out a hand to her._ Arwyn watched as the child shook her head and clutched the doorframe, refusing to move. _As his daughter's eyes filled with fear, the king repeated: "It's alright."_

 _The woman coughed, her voice raspy as she tried to call to her child: "Arwyn?" She choked, using the last of her energy to lift her arm off the bed and offer her hand to the little princess. "Arwyn, it's alright. Come here, youngling." Tearful sea green eyes, widened in terror, darted from her father to her mother before the girl shook her head once more. The queen's hand shook under the lack of support as she strained to keep it elevated. Another round of coughing caused her to wheeze as her body tremored with pain. "Let me see you, please?" The red head forced out once more, "Please. Take my hand." The young princess tiptoed over with a strong anxiety – her small hands trembling as they reached her mother. Tears glided down the woman's face, more graceful that the death that lingered around her. Gasping slightly, the Queen choked out: "I don't want you to be scared. You are stronger and more beautiful than you will ever know." As her child sobbed, the red-haired woman swallowed her tears: "Promise me something?" She asked, her voice wavering as another bout of pain racketed through her body: "Promise me that you will always do what is right in your heart. If it feels wrong, do not do it. The right thing is not always the easiest, Arwyn." The king allowed a single tear to glide down his cheek as his daughter, threw her arms around him. "There will be people that will try to use you but always be smart. Do not let the world ruin you. Promise me." The little girl shook her head once, unable to comprehend all that was happening and silently began to back away. "Arwyn."_

 _"_ _Arwyn!" The king called out as his daughter suddenly turned and ran out of the room, "Arwyn!"_

"Arwyn!" She jumped as Arthur touched her shoulder lightly. Upon snapping her gaze to him and viewing her reflection in his eyes, the princess noticed the tears that numbly cascaded down her startled expression. Her hands quickly banished them as if to save face however the concerned frown on the prince's brow told her that it had been in vain. As his arms wrapped around her, she let go of her pride; allowing him to pull her into his chest and hold her with a gentle strength. "It will be okay." He whispered, kissing the top of her head as she returned the embrace.

"There's something stuck on the inside of the goblet." Gaius muttered to no one in particular. Pulling out a set of tweezers, he retrieved the object.

"What is it?" Arthur asked over the princess' head, prompting her to pull away from him in curiosity.

"It looks like a flower petal of some kind…Arwyn, do you remember that old book that you were studying with Merlin?" The court physician asked, "Bring it here." Arthur's brow creased slightly in confusion as the old man watched the princess nod. As she walked briskly to the ladder that leaned against the bookcases, her heart hammered in her chest and her anxiety grew. Her hands trembled slightly in anticipation as she pulled the ladder to the spot where she had placed the book a few days beforehand. Scaling the ladder, she ran her fingertips over the spines of the books as she located the old leather bindings of her target. Pulling it out, she carefully slid down the ladder and thumped the heavy book down on the table, startling Gwen as she whispered to the unconscious Merlin. Gaius grimaced over his shoulder as he tried to search the book for an answer, even with Arwyn and Arthur breathing down his neck at either side; eager for information. "Ah. The petal comes from the Mortaeus flower." The old man finally spoke, hovering over the book with a magnifying glass before turning to face the young royals, forcing them backwards. "It says here that someone poisoned by the Mortaeus can only be saved by a potion made from the leaf of the very same flower. It can only be found in the caves deep beneath the Forest of Balor. The flower grows on the roots of the Mortaeus tree."

"That's not particularly friendly." The prince interrupted, tapping a ringed finger against the drawing of a large reptilian-like creature.

Following his line of sight, Arwyn's brow crinkled as she took a closer look: "What is it?"

"A Cockatrice." As the old physician responded, the princess looked at him with a blank expression, prompting him to elaborate. "It guards the forest. Its venom is potent. A single drop would mean certain death. Few who have crossed the Mountains of Isgaard in search of the Mortaeus flower have made it back alive."

"Arthur, no. It's too dangerous." The princess argued as if she had read his mind.

Without acknowledging that she had spoken, Arthur looked to Gaius: "If I don't get the antidote, what happens to Merlin?"

"The Mortaeus induces a slow and painful death. He may hold out for four, maybe five days, but not for much longer." The silence following the medic's words seemed to suffocate them. Quashing any hope that they held. "Eventually he will die."

* * *

A faint knocking stirred her from her sleep, forcing her to sit up on the bed. Groggily rubbing her eyes, she realised that she was no longer by Merlin's bedside in the physician's chambers – concluding that Sir Geralt had carried her like he used to when she was a child. Another knock soon radiated from the door, prompting her to stand. The stone floor was cold against her feet, despite the roaring fire that warmed the large chambers. As a third knock pounded at the door, she pulled it open to reveal Arthur.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" He asked in a hushed voice. His eyebrows were knotted and formed in tense straight lines as his mouth pouted slightly. The conflict in his mind, clear in his frustrated expression.

"Yes, but it's okay." She whispered back, her voice croaky from her slumber. Taking a step to the side, she allowed him to hesitantly enter the fire-lit chambers. "What's wrong?" Closing the door gently, so not to wake Morgana who slept soundly next door, she turned to face him. Noting his solemn and conflicted expression, her jaw dropped slightly: "Is it Merlin?"

"No! He's…well, he's still the same." Arthur quickly interrupted, unwilling to worry her any more. "I wanted to check on you. You were rather upset earlier."

The way in which she had immediately dropped her gaze to the floor, had not gone unnoticed by the prince. Nor had the nervous way in which she picked and pulled at her fingers, twisting them incessantly. She was sure that pride would force her to deflect the question or answer with a taunting remark and so she had surprised herself when she muttered: "It just brought back some memories that I didn't know existed…"

Concern coated his expression as he studied hers. Her jaw clenched as she fought the emotion, something that he had seen her do a thousand times and yet, this time seemed different – it lacked the confidence and authority. Her eyes went elsewhere as they widened in fear and her eyebrows furrowed as her bottom lip pulled upwards involuntarily. "About your mother?" He asked as gently as his tone would allow. Momentarily surprised, her expression relaxed as her brows rose and her mouth puckered ever-so-slightly as she stared at him curiously. As if reading her thoughts, he added: "My father told me."

"I ran away." She swallowed heavily, her eyes welling up at the recollection as her breaths grew heavier. Stubbornly, she blinked the pain away. "My father took me to see her and I couldn't bring myself to stay with her, no matter how much she called for me. I ran out the room… Sir Geralt found me in the forest but, it didn't matter. She had died before I had even left the west wing of the castle."

"I'm sorry." The prince whispered, redundantly apologetic. He watched as she shook her head and sat on the edge of her windowsill. Following her lead, he gently perched himself beside her and placed a hand on top of her own. An emotionally charged silence blanketed them, neither finding the words to say until Arthur sighed gently. "My father has forbidden me from leaving to find the antidote but Morgana thinks I should disobey him." Arwyn nodded solemnly in understanding as she caught a yawn, studying his serious expression whilst the flickering candlelight illuminated him. "If I don't go then I am a coward but if I die, Camelot has no heir."

His eyes were a deep blue and appeared to magnetise her as they awaited her response.

"You heard Gaius, few people have made it back alive…it's dangerous. Camelot doesn't just need an heir, it needs you, Arthur." He stared at her, momentarily stunned by her rare display of support, "but if you don't go then Merlin will die…"

Arthur narrowed his eyes slightly, a small smirk toying at his lips as he tilted his head and looked to her: "Somehow, I don't think that helps…" Arwyn laughed a little in response, adverting her gaze from his and muttering an apology. "What do you think I should do?" His voice was barely a whisper and his eyes searched for hers as he finally asked the question that had been on his mind all evening.

"I think that you have already made up your mind but you're scared of the unknown and you want me to tell you that your decision is the right one." She answered plainly, her tone just as soft as his. Yawning slightly, she gave into her fatigue and rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes for a moment. "It is."

Her words seemed to solidify the plan that he had been concocting since talking with Morgana. Smiling slightly, he turning his head to look down at her. He remained silent for a moment, cherishing the moment as he considered the peril of the task at hand – there was no guarantee that he would return. Sweeping her hair out of her face, he nodded: "I'll leave tonight."

"I believe in you." She whispered after a moment. As she lifted her head to look at him, her nose accidentally brushed his, alerting them to their proximity. His eyes trailed over her face as if slowly memorising it in that moment; the rare moment in which he saw her as she truly was, without the regal glamour and feigned formalities nor the shield of insolence and deflection. She swallowed heavily as she stared back at him; noticing every little detail and the tiny imperfections that glittered his skin. The air between them was thick as their hearts hammered in their chests – neither comprehending the consequences of the thoughts in their minds. Subconsciously, he found his eyes wandering to her lips, a look that she had mirrored before quickly catching herself. The silence bound them, drawing them together. Gingerly, he carefully reached up to remove a curl that had attached itself to her eyelashes, pausing as his fingertips danced across her cheek. In that split second, the small space between them seemed so much smaller: "My father has a lot of wheat." Arwyn suddenly blurted.

"What?"

"A bird told me. I mean a raven did…well it didn't say anything because birds don't talk – although, I'm sure they would if they could…it was a letter. That it carried. From my father…" She rambled, somehow unable to stop the words that spewed out of her mouth as her face flushed bright red in embarrassment. She wasn't sure why she had said that nor why she couldn't control the impulse to continue talking but as Arthur frowned at her in confusion and scooted backwards, awkwardly scratching the back of his head, she mentally slapped herself. It must have been something to do with their proximity. They had been too close. The sincerity in his stare had left her feeling vulnerable. The compromising position had left her defenceless. She hated it. Biting her lip so hard that it nearly drew blood, she fought back the string of unreliable words that threatened to destroy her further.

"That's…good?" Arthur stammered, unsure of what he was supposed to say to her as a slight feeling of disappointment muddled with confusion rushed over him. He watched her as she nodded and looked away from him, a hidden expression of self-loathing on her face. A heavy silence descended over them, suffocating them as they avoided eye contact. "Uh…You should get some sleep." The prince eventually spoke, standing from his position and making his way to the door as she nodded. "Sleep well."

"Goodnight." Arwyn squeaked, smiling awkwardly. As the young Pendragon pulled open the wooden door and stepped into the hall, she rose from her seat and called after him. "Arthur?" His stomach lurched as he looked back to her. "Be careful." As he nodded and closed the door behind him, Arwyn threw herself backwards onto the bed. Rolling her eyes at her actions as she placed a pillow over her face, groaning in embarrassment.

* * *

The sun was barely in the sky by the time the princess had joined Guinevere in Gaius' chambers. With an extensive list of duties for the day, Arwyn had elected to check on the boy immediately after her morning bathe. The elder physician was grateful for her kindness as her servants arrived with his meals for the day – prepped fresh from the palace kitchens. Her light spirits had been dampened as she realised that the boy that she had bonded with on her very first day, had grown increasingly worse overnight.

Sighing in defeat, her attention was caught by whispers that escaped the young servant: "What is he saying?"

"Nothing." Gaius dismissed brashly, interrupting Gwen as she pondered the same thing. "The fever has taken hold. None of his words are his own." The man added, praying that the curious young woman would fail to question him further.

However, his hopes were shattered as she pried: "Are you sure that isn't a language? I could have sworn that I have heard it somewhere before…"

The colour visibly drained from his face as the girl frowned, her hand gently caressing her bottom lip in thought. He mentally cursed himself for neglecting the knowledge that her father had allowed the use of magic in the Distant Isles, provided it was used as a force for good. The natural powers of the islands were well known throughout the lands and so of course, the princess – though she may not understand it - would not be unfamiliar with the tongue of the druids.

"It's just sounds like nonsense!" Gwen interjected, chuckling at the perplexed expression on her friend's face.

Upon hearing her explanation, Arwyn frowned. Nodding slightly, her gaze remained firmly planted on Merlin as she slowly opened the door to the chambers. Pursing her lips, she frowned once more: "Yes. I am sure you're right."

* * *

As the days passed, her anxiety grew. The stone floor beneath her bedroom window grew etched with the continual pacing that occurred as she waited for Arthur to return with the antidote. With the prospect of grief creeping in at the corners of her mind, she sought the comforting embrace of her most loyal of companions.

The stables were silent aside from the sweeping of the stable hand, Tir. The soft bristles of the brush tugged at the stallion's long black mane as he chewed on a fresh red apple and nuzzled her chin with affection.

"Arthur returned to Camelot this morning. Uther had him arrested on the spot." Sir Geralt alerted, his voice gruff as he leant against the wooden post in the stables, his arms crossed against his chest and his sword hanging loosely against his thigh.

The princess swiftly whipped her head round to face the scarred knight, prompting the black stallion to snort as her hair lashed his eye. Her expression was eager as she rushed: "Did he get the flower?"

"Haven't the foggiest." The man shrugged nonchalantly. However, as his Lady stared at him indignantly, he sighed. "The king won't allow anyone to see him."

"I have to find out."

The knight immediately stood up straight as he caught a glimpse of the determined look in her eye, before she turned back to her loyal steed. A distracted expression altered her appearance as she searched her mind for a solution and so her guardian fought for her attention:

"Perhaps, you ought to remember that the rules do apply to you, My Lady."

As Arwyn turned back to face him, he was met with a look that he had seen too many times over her twenty years of life. It was the one look that appeared when her mind would not be swayed. The expression that told him that he had already lost the battle. "A wise, albeit grumpy, old man once said: "you are an adult now and adults do what they must." I must not let a friend die."

Sir Geralt sighed as she quoted him, he was not going to change her mind - yet a stubbornness to later say 'I told you so' took hold, so he continued: "I fear that if you continue to disobey the King, he will send for your father…or worse. Uther's temper is not one to trifle with."

His words fell on deaf ears, a frequent problem that he had come up against. Dumping the grooming brushes in his arms with a determined look on her face, the princess already had an idea formed in her mind:

"Then I shall get the antidote without disobeying him."

* * *

The door to the council chambers felt unusually light as she entered, disrupting the meeting in progress. Upon seeing her, Uther dismissed his advisors who obediently bowed their heads and left them. As she walked further into the room, his gaze followed her. She caught a glimpse of the concern that his expression held – the first hint that her plan may succeed: "Are you alright?" He asked before continuing, "I am sorry about the boy…I know you were close to him."

Her sea green gaze wandered over the numerous maps and papers that lay strewn across the table. Gingerly, she picked up one of the iron knights, examining it in silence before returning it to its position. As she turned her attention to her father's old friend, she pondered, "Do you think that you can win?"

"Without a doubt," The king responded immediately, his stare following hers to the strategy plans, "though I am sure that you have not come to talk to me about battle plans. What troubles you?"

"I have never had very many friendships." She started, her words slow and deliberate. "People tend to use me for their own means and I guess with Merlin at death's door…I have been reminded how lonely I am, here in Camelot."

Uther sighed gently, sympathy oozing from him as she slyly glanced at him out the corner of her eye. Clasping a hand on her shoulder, he assured her: "I know that things haven't been easy for you and that some adjustment has been required but you are not alone."

Her gaze wandered down to her hands as she nodded her head, exuding a vulnerability that the man had rarely seen on her. After a moment's silence, she looked up with a question on her lips: "How long will Arthur be imprisoned?"

"One week."

Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, Arwyn glanced up at him – perfectly crafting the damsel in distress persona, "Do you think that I could see him? Just for a moment. I know that he is to be punished but I have heard awful stories about the beasts in the mountains and if I could just talk to him…perhaps it would ease my mind."

"You care for him?" Uther's tone betrayed him as the eagerness and surprise seeped through.

"I do, My Lord. I know that I have been _reluctant_ regarding the politics of our relationship but despite all of that, I find myself caring for Arthur more than I ever thought I could." The words flew effortlessly out of her mouth as she held an even tone. "More than I thought I could ever care for anyone." Stealing a glance at the King, his triumphant expression was exactly what she had wanted to see. Fighting a smirk, she measured him – her eyes calculating as she easily manoeuvred him into her trap. "I have this nauseating feeling in my chest and…" Another glance out the corner of her eye. Surveying her target. Forcing a gentle sigh, she turned to face him; her expression childlike with an air of vulnerability. "But I understand your position, I merely needed someone to voice my thoughts to. I am sorry that I disrupted your court."

Uther nodded once in acknowledgement, a stoic expression on his face masking his indecision as his gloved hand rubbed his jawline. Curtsying slightly, the princess turned and slowly made her way to the door until (as if on cue) a voice stopped her: "Guards! Escort the princess to Arthur's cell." Biting back her delight, Arwyn turned back to the older man, a subtle frown of contrived confusion resting on her brow as his green eyes glanced to her. "Five minutes."

"Thank you, Sire." She gasped softly in feigned surprise at his kindness. Bowing her head once more, she swiftly exited the council chambers – a triumphant and cunning smirk contorting her usually kind smile as the King warned his guards that they were not to leave the pair unattended.

* * *

The cell door creaked open causing the prince to look up as Arwyn rushed in, a guard by her side: "I don't have long. Are you alright? Were you hurt?"

Shaking his head in response to the latter, Arthur spoke – his voice raspy from the solitude: "I thought I wasn't allowed any visitors."

"Your father made an exception for me." The princess muttered, "Once I told him what he wanted to hear." Unsure of her meaning, Arthur frowned. However, the confusion soon turned smug as the realisation dawned on him. Rolling her eyes at his smirk, Arwyn scowled: "You are intolerable."

A grin briefly flashed across the prince's muddy complexion before concern contorted him, "Merlin?" He asked, his eyes searching her own as he anxiously awaited an answer.

However, her expression left him waning. Her hair fell loose on her shoulder as she gently shook her head, her gaze dropping to the ground – suddenly feeling the need to avert disappointment: "He grows weaker." She whispered, her voice barely audible in the large stony prison. Taking a deep breath, she finally glanced back to him. "The fever is accelerating and Gaius fears that he will not make it through the night."

"Times up." The guard spoke, his voice booming in the tiny cell at unnecessary volume. "I am sorry, My Lady but you must return upstairs."

The prince's mind swept into overdrive as the princess opened her mouth to argue with the man in armour. Feeling the wilting flower between his fingers, he felt the fragility of the serving boy's life in his grasp. Sensing the urgency of the matter and the weight of the pressure to deliver, Arthur's hand shot out to grab the argumentative royal in front of him.

Her eyes widened in shock as she crashed into him and his lips met hers. Instinctively, her hands went to his chest to push him away. However, as his free hand cradled her neck just below the clasp in her hair, she realised what he was doing. Relaxing, she closed her eyes and returned the gesture until the guard cleared his throat awkwardly. Their cheeks felt warm as they breathlessly stepped away from each other, sharing a knowing nod before parting ways for the remainder of the prince's imprisonment. As he watched her leave, he turned to the barred window, a smile threatening to tug at the corner of his lips.

Hastily, the princess reached up to her hair clip, carefully retrieving the Morteus flower – a triumphant grin coating her expression as examined it before running up the stone staircase, two steps at a time.

* * *

 _"_ _Has Arthur got the flower?"_ She heard the physician ask from the other side of the door as she came to a halt.

"No, I have. It's a bit crumpled." She panted, catching her breath as she burst into the chambers, startling both Gwen and Gaius as the door crashed against the wall. "Will it still work?"

Composing herself, she held the flower out to the old man. Her eyes searching him with a similar haste to which she appeared as he began to work on the antidote.

"I hope so."

Sliding back into the stool that had become like an extra limb over the previous days, Arwyn took the boy's clammy, cold hand. She did not mind the frosty sweat that formed a sleek layer across his snow-white complexion, nor the chill that ran through his hand to her. The only thought that festered in the forefront of her tired mind was that of mortality. Throughout her short life, she believed that Death had played a prominent role, yet she knew that the crown that sat atop her head had sheltered her in more ways than one. The less fortunate had danced with Death since the moment of their first breath, toyed with the tightrope that balanced their worlds whilst money had bought her years and so when the time came, she knew that Death would not greet her as an old friend for He barely knew her name.

The clanging of the stone mortar came to an abrupt stop, pulling her from her thoughts as she snapped her head round to look at the physician: "Why have you stopped?"

"The poison was created using magic. We may need magic to make an antidote."

Gwen gasped at the concept, "But we can't. It's forbidden!"

"It is forbidden out of fear, I do not see why it cannot be used for healing." The princess interjected, once again deciding that the need to save a life trumped the need to follow the rules.

"Even if we knew how. It's treason."

"Only if Uther found out about it."

Upon hearing the argument, Gaius' brow rose to his hairline at the young royal's perception. A view that was not at all unlike her father's but one that would have her executed nonetheless. However, fearing that he may need to follow her lead, the old man sighed: "I'll try and make it work without, but I need some fresh water and wolfsbane."

* * *

The court physician smiled in relief as Gwen and Arwyn returned to his chambers. The latter having read the ingredients for the antidote prior to questioning the need for more wolfsbane, leaving the physician unsure as to whether she would go on the fool's errand.

"Hold his nose." He ordered, stirring the fizzing potion with an urgency that suffocated the room. Arwyn nervously pulled at her fingers, watching as Gwen followed the man's instructions. "Swallow, Merlin. Swallow it." He whispered as the dark green solution slid into his mouth.

"He's stopped breathing." The serving girl announced, fear widening her eyes as panic set in. "What's happening? Gaius?"

The princess' breath suffocated her, and her heart hammered in her chest, violently beating her ribcage as the old man searched for a pulse. As his face contorted and he slowly shook his head, her sea green eyes pierced him. Tears welled as a lump formed in her throat: "No." She whispered, shaking her head furiously as her brow creased and her mouth gaped in shock. "He…No. He can't be dead." Forcing her way through the web of heartache, she glanced between her companions. "We did everything that the book said…he…no."

Sinking into the stool beside the cot, she allowed her head to drop into her hands as Gwen burst into tears: "It's my fault. If I'd have got here sooner. If I'd have been quicker…"

"No, no. It was me." The physician whispered as he cradled her. Her choked sobs dampening his tunic. "I should've looked after him better. It's my fault."

"That's disgusting." A voice suddenly croaked, causing her to look up. "You should be ashamed of yourself. You're old enough to be her grandfather."

Gasping at the sight of his raven hair as it clung to the sweat on his forehead and the deep-set purple rings that cradled his bright blue eyes, Arwyn found herself at a loss for words and so she stammered: "You're okay? You're alive."

"No. I'm the ghost come back to haunt you."

A huge grin spread across his still sickly pale skin yet the light in his eyes banished any fear and loss that she had felt, prompting a laugh of genuine happiness and relief. The moment was short-lived however as the handmaiden grabbed his face, planting a kiss on his lips. As the room descended into silence, Gwen's eyes widened at her actions as her olive complexion took on a deep shade of red: "Sorry, I'm just...I thought you were dead." She shrugged awkwardly, causing her friends to smile.

"It's fine. It's more than fine." The boy rushed in response, grinning like he was on top of the world. A hearty chuckle vibrated through his guardian's chest, earning Merlin's attention and a gentle frown of recollection: "What happened? The last thing I remember is drinking the wine."

* * *

Following Uther's apologies at the brink of war, Lord Bayard and his men rode out of Camelot whilst the Pendragons, Morgana and Arwyn waved them away. The breeze was gentle, pulling at the loose strands of hair that Meredith had allowed to drop across her princess' shoulders and twisting the lilac fabric of her dress.

"You lied to me."

His tone was low, his words a whisper on the wind as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, pulling her stare from the road below them. In that moment, he appeared to tower above her; his mossy green eyes hardened and highlighting creases of age and stress that littered his pale complexion. The young woman felt as though he were prying into her soul, piercing it with a steel gaze and yet he was not looking at her.

The breeze that flew between them was not enough to part the heavy silence. Uncomfortable, Arwyn found her eyes wandering to the very person in question as he conversed with Morgana. As she looked at him, she felt a small twinge in her chest though it barely registered under the thick blanket of confusion and its trim of political responsibility. Her stomach churned slightly as Arthur – feeling her stare – looked over at her. He smiled as his eyes met hers before he returned his attention to his father's ward. Confusion soon masked the flutter in her chest as she frowned and adverted her gaze. Sighing under the pressure of the King's silence, she finally turned back to him only to find that he had been studying her.

Stealing another quick glance back to the subject of her inner turmoil then back to his father – the source of the overpowering pressure to conform to her mother's wish, Arwyn finally whispered:

"I'm not sure that I did."

* * *

"Sorry…" The princess muttered as she arrived at the door of the physician's chambers to find the prince in conversation with the target of her visit. Upon hearing her voice, both young men turned to face her as she focussed on the serving boy. "I just wanted to see how you were feeling." She added, smiling slightly as she viewed him. The colour had returned to his cheeks as he sat with a bowl of soup; a dark brown blanket draped over his shoulders in an attempt to maintain heat. "I would have visited earlier but Uther was rather cross with me for neglecting my duties."

Blushing, Merlin adverted his gaze: "Gaius said that you had rarely left my side." Hearing this, Arthur frowned slightly as he looked between his servant and the princess to whom he was to marry, should his father get his way. "No one has ever cared about me that much."

"You're my friend, Merlin. I would never have forgiven myself if anything had happened to you." The pair grinned at each other as the servant muttered an enthusiastic 'thank you'. As a pair of deep blue eyes bore into the side of her head, Arwyn turned to meet a look that she could not quite decipher as it rested on the brow of the prince. Clearing her throat, awkwardly, she smiled: "I ought to go…Goodnight."

A soft pink brandished her cheekbones as she nodded to the men before briskly exiting the chambers. Her feet could not carry her as fast as she wanted to disappear to her chambers and such a fact was soon proven true as Arthur caught up to her.

"I have to say that is not how I imagined our first kiss."

Rolling her eyes at the smirk in his tone, she answered plainly: "Oh, and I suppose that is something that you imagine often?" Spinning to face him, she raised an eyebrow as her arms crossed against her chest in a defensive manner. "Merlin's life was in danger and I needed the flower, end of story." He fought another smirk as she snapped at him before turning to walk away. If he hadn't known her, he may have continued on his journey but Arthur knew her all too well. Counting down the seconds in his head, he waited. After years apart, the young pair were only just getting to know each other again but as the princess stalked off in a fit of frustration, the prince knew that it would only be a matter of seconds before she returned to further justify her actions because heaven forbid she allow him to think that the kiss had meant anything. As if on cue, the brunette stormed back to him; her stance defensive as he grinned uncontrollably. "and _you_ kissed me." She reminded him, prodding his chest with her index finger as she glared at the amusement on his face.

Leaning in closer to her, Arthur's eyes flickered over her face as she stubbornly focusses on maintaining her composure – refusing to back down and surrender to him: "and _you_ didn't pull away."

"I did!"

As she exclaimed with outrage, the prince's smirk only increased as he responded; "Not nearly as soon as you could have."

"Yes, well it was hard to focus on something other than throwing up!"

Arthur rolled his eyes; "Charming."

A soft silence lay between them until a subtle smile spread across her lips. Glancing at the floor for a spilt second before looking back into his eyes, she spoke sincerely, "Thank you for saving him."

"He wouldn't have received the antidote in time if it wasn't for you." The blonde shrugged, dismissing any hidden praise in her words. He studied her for a moment as her eyes wandered down the corridor. "We make a good team." A bright smile shone from him before he added: "When you aren't being insufferable."

Arwyn rolled her eyes and scoffed lightly: "Goodnight, Arthur."

He fought a grin and bowed his head as she warred with one of her own. Neither speaking another word as they went their separate ways but as a strange feeling stirred in his chest, Arthur stole one last glance backwards in time to watch the lilac train of her dress disappear from sight before allowing a smile to tug at the corner of his lips.


	7. CHAPTER 6

Author's Note:I'm finally back! Sorry it has been so long, life got in the way.

Thank you all for your patience and please do let me know what you think about this chapter (it's really long, I'm sorry...)

I would also like to dedicate this chapter to **HPuni101**! Promise the next one will be up a lot sooner.

* * *

 **Disclaimer: I do not own BBC's Merlin, their characters nor their plot. I do however own the Princess Arwyn and Sir Geralt. Their character and story arcs remain my intellectual property. **

Hooves thundered against the fallen trees along the muddy tracks. A crossbow hung loose from the saddle, it's bolts dripping with water used to erase the remnants of its hunt. As the wind teased at the loose tendrils that had slipped from her ribbon, she smiled widely at her guard. It was moments like this that she truly felt free. Surrounded by nature as the sun beat down on their backs, miles from the political noose around her neck. Delving deeper into the forest, her hairs stood on end. Pulling Falen to a halt, the princess tilted her head – a concentrated frown knitting her thin eyebrows together. The world seemed much quieter than it had ever been. The birds had ceased their song, the leaves had failed to quiver in the morning breeze; the only sound was the whisper of their breath on the air. It was eerily quiet. Too quiet.

As she flickered her calculating stare to the darkened, scarred glare of her companion, a shrill scream broke through the vacuum that had consumed them. Snapping into action, she kicked the black stallion – forcing him into a brisk canter. A commotion up ahead spurred her further as she clutched her dagger, ignoring the concerned warnings from the knight that struggled to keep up with her.

Reaching the source of the danger, she watched wide-eyed as a large creature retreated deeper into the forest. It was like nothing she had ever seen before; the head of an eagle on the body of a lion. Calls of help from a voice that was not at all unfamiliar, drew her attention. Dismounting with haste, the small princess was met by a panic-stricken friend.

"Merlin? Are you alright? What happened?" She rushed, quickly kneeling by the serving boy. Her eyes landed on the dark-haired stranger; blood seeping out over his blue shirt, prompting her to put pressure on it. As her hands pushed down on the deep wounds, her gaze wandered up to Merlin as he told the tale of the monster attack between heavy, laboured breaths. Her eyes widened in shock as a hot sticky red liquid poured between her fingers and the sound of hooves thundered to a halt behind them.

"What the bloody hell…"

"We need to get him to Gaius." The princess interrupted her guard, ripping a large strip from her long tunic and tying it around the man's torso in an attempt to bandage the wound. Deep crimson smears stained the light fabric of her dress as she ran her hands over it and ordered: "Put him on the back of Falen."

"My Lady, I should take him."

"I'm the faster rider. He needs medical attention now." The knight hesitated – unwilling to allow her to ride back to the castle unaccompanied. Sensing his lack of action, her expression grew stony. "That's an order."

Upon the magic words that bound him to her service, Sir Geralt nodded curtly. There was no arguing with the stubborn young woman. He sighed through his nose as he swung the younger boy over his shoulder with ease before placing him behind his princess on the pitch-black stallion. Without another word, Arwyn had nudged Falen onwards, clipping her heels against him as he pushed forward in a strong gallop. The wind whipped at the fallen ends of her hair and her hands trembled with adrenaline. Glancing back momentarily at the man whose life was now – quite literally – in her hands, Arwyn nudged the horse once more. Her legs burned and ached as she finally crashed through the gates of the castle; unaware of how she had found her way. Upon viewing the shower of blood, a swarm of knights drowned her, calling for the king. However, her only worry was the dark-haired stranger.

* * *

Her flickering, wide-eyed stare landed on the bloodied clothes that lay atop her bed. The scarlet stains had long been banished from her pale complexion, yet she could still sense them; lingering. The stone tiles beneath the window grew etched with her pacing, the soles of her shoes grew warm with the friction. Her hand rested against her bottom lip as her gaze continued to wander, engulfed in thought. Water dripped from the ends of her freshly washed hair as she sighed and turned to the man who had been watching her continuously:

"I never took you for much of a nurse-maid." She muttered, tired of his watchful eye and the heavy silence that ensued after the constant repetition of the same three questions. The older man smiled fondly at her wit. "As I have said, I am quite alright. The blood wasn't mine."

As he opened his mouth to respond, the door to her chambers flew open, crashing off the wall as the prince rushed to the princess.

"I heard what happened, are you alright?" He asked, his hands running from her shoulders to her elbows as he stood close to her, surveying her. Concern creased his brow and flooded his eyes as they remained connected to the vulnerability in hers.

"I'm fine." She whispered, nodding in confirmation.

"The creature, did you get a good look at it?" The gruff tone from the corner of the room alerted Arthur to the presence of his father, prompting him to abruptly pull away from the young woman in front of him and knot his hands behind his back.

Nodding in response, Arwyn's attention was soon drawn to the open door of her chambers. Upon seeing the court physician approaching, the young woman blurted the question that had been on her mind all day: "How is he?"

The old man bowed his head in respect as he entered the chambers: "His wounds are superficial, there is no deep internal damage. He should wake come morning." Smiling as her shoulders visibly relaxed, the princess nodded. "You did well, My Lady. It would seem that you do listen when I teach."

* * *

"You look positively charming today." The princess smirked sarcastically, eyeing Arthur's sullen expression as she browsed the flowers at the market stall, the following morning.

"Don't." The blonde prince warned, tossing his gauntlets at Merlin who followed behind. The stress lacing his tone and expression. "You know, Grummund is the third fail this month. How am I meant to protect Camelot with rubbish like that?"

Arwyn hummed as she toyed with the purple peonies in her hand: "Perhaps it's the teacher." A playful smile spread across her lips as Arthur turned to her with a scowl. "Maybe that's just what happens when you limit your field. There are only so many people who were born with the right to fight for their King." Tilting his head in silent agreement, Arthur threw down a couple of coins to the florist – overpaying for flowers that the princess was holding. Surprised by the gesture, Arwyn raised an eyebrow at the prince who simply shrugged and carried on walking, forcing her to catch up. "So, what are you going to do?"

"I think I might be able to help!" Merlin suddenly shouted from behind, reminding the royals of his presence.

"You, Merlin?" Arthur scoffed obnoxiously, "You haven't the faintest idea what it takes to become a knight. Courage, fortitude, discipline…"

"Putting up with him all day." Arwyn interrupted before feigning realisation, "Oh, you already have that one!"

Arthur fought a smile as he turned to her: "Do you ever have anything useful to say?"

"Depends who you ask." A slow grin spread across her face. The prince's eyes met hers and held them for a moment as he battled against another smile, silently hating the effect she seemed to have. As he scoffed and turned away to save face, Arwyn glanced back to the serving boy and smiled: "Sorry, you were saying?"

"I didn't mean me. Of course not." Merlin mumbled, feeling rather sheepish suddenly. "I know someone that has what it takes. He saved my life."

"And then _Arwyn_ had to save his."

"You mean like Morgana saved yours against Valiant?" The princess bit back, irritated by the young man's continuous ignorance.

"She didn't…" Arthur began before sighing in defeat and turning back to Merlin: "Look, I'm sure he's great but you forget the First Code of Camelot."

"The what?"

"The First Code." Arwyn repeated, "Only those born of nobility can serve as a knight."

"Well…" Merlin stammered. "He, he is noble."

"He is?" Arthur asked, his face scrunching in surprise as the princess narrowed her eyes and raised a suspicious brow at the boy who avoided eye contact. "Very well. Bring him to the training ground tomorrow. And make sure he brings his seal of nobility."

* * *

After the long impromptu stroll through the town with the prince, the princess made her way back to the castle. The sun beat down on her as her boots kicked the dirt beneath them, the bundle of flowers still cradled in her right hand. The town was as busy as ever, chatter danced along the wind accompanied by the percussions of the blacksmith's hammer against the anvil.

As she arrived on the grounds of the castle, her sea green eyes landed on familiar dark curls. A small smile crossed her expression, deepening her dimples as she called to him: "I'm glad to see you're awake."

Turning towards the voice, Lancelot's eyes widened before he dropped to the ground in a deep bow: "I believe I owe you my life, Princess."

"Stand up." She muttered, looking around awkwardly. As the man rose, she eyed him: "Merlin mentioned that you wish to become a knight of Camelot."

"I did, My Lady."

"Did?" Raising an eyebrow in question, she continued walking into the castle only to pause as the man hesitated, unsure whether or not he should follow.

Taking her expression as hint enough to pursue her, Lancelot jogged up to her before finally answering her question: "When I was a boy, my village was attacked by raiders from the northern plains. They were slaughtered where they stood, my father, my mother. Everyone. I alone survived." Arwyn's lips turned down and her heart sank as she listened to the story of his past. She had witnessed much loss throughout her short lifetime yet, she could not imagine being truly alone in the world. "I vowed that day that never again would I be helpless in the face of tyranny. I made sword craft my life. Every waking hour since that day, I devoted to the art of combat, and when I was ready, I set forth for Camelot. And now, it seems, my journey ends. Everything I fought for, wasted." Devastation and defeat contorted his expression and his deep brown eyes filled with sorrow as he turned to face her: "I am not of noble birth."

A gentle sigh escaped her as she nodded in understanding. Merlin had been mistaken as he named the man as a potential knight.

"I am sorry, Lancelot. There are few as dedicated to the position." She spoke, her words doing nothing to relieve his pain. "I wish there was something that I could do."

* * *

It had been another busy morning for the young royal. She had visited the townsfolk, learning the little details of their daily routines whilst helping where she could and highlighting the crown's concern for their wellbeing, despite her own belief that the king only cared when it suited him. As noon drew nearer, the sun cut across her feet and shoulders – warming them as she walked with her guardian. The conversation had been as pleasant as always and the young woman had just begun telling her knight about her latest lesson with the court physician as her gaze wandered across the training field; first landing on Arthur then snapping to a rather unexpected sight.

"Go on without me." She muttered, eyes narrowed and trained on the man in the orange armour. "I'll catch up."

Her feet carried her swiftly as Sir Geralt called after her: "My Lady, you do not want to be late for lunch with the king. Your father might put up with it, but Uther will not." A low growl escaped his scarred upper lip as the princess merely shrugged at him. " _Children_." He snarled under his breath, continuing towards the castle, as ordered by the insubordinate young royal in his charge.

"Well, you certainly look the part." Merlin mused as Arwyn approached the trio and Gwen grinned in agreement.

Lancelot, looking the sullener of the three grumbled: "I don't feel it."

"Merlin." Arwyn announced herself causing the younger boy to jump and face her wide-eyed. "What have you done?"

Gwen fought as slight smile as the serving boy scoffed, laughed, grinned and then scratched the back of his neck before answering his friend: "Why do you always assume it was me?"

"Because when it wasn't me, it's most certainly of your doing." The princess responded with a raised eyebrow. Lancelot ducked his head from her stare as she turned to him and held out her hand, wiggling her fingers impatiently and eyeing the roll of parchment clutched tightly between his hands. As the man bowed slightly and passed the forged seal of nobility to the brunette, Merlin smiled sheepishly. The handmaiden's eyes remained firmly on the royal as she scanned the document, a heavy silence falling over the group as they awaited her next move. "Well, I must admit, it is incredible work, Merlin but…" The prince's servant looked to her with a frown as she stopped mid-sentence however, he soon understood why as the parchment collided with the back of his head. "Seriously?!"

His eyes quickly scanned the knights as his arms flailed about in the air and he hissed: "Not so loud!" Gwen chewed the fingernails of her left hand as Arwyn glared furiously at the boy. The longer they argued, the higher the chance that Lancelot was discovered before he had had the opportunity to commit the crime. "He deserves a chance, Arwyn." Merlin continued, bright blue eyes pleading as a nervous sweat beaded across the brow of Lancelot who silently awaited his fate. " _Please_."

"Northumbria?" She finally spoke, causing each of her companions to frown in confusion.

"What?"

"Of all the kingdoms, you chose Northumbria?" Arwyn continued, scrunching up her nose in disapproval. "You could have chosen somewhere further afield. A better story and a lesser known nobleman. I could have helped if you'd come to me."

"The less you knew the better, My Lady." Lancelot's shoulders visibly relaxed as the young woman handed the forgery back to him, ignoring Merlin who stared at her incredulously: "I feel terrible about lying."

"Yes, well, you weren't exactly given the choice."

Upon receiving the pointed glare, Merlin placed his hands on his hips and scoffed: "Now I know what Arthur meant about not having anything useful to say."

"Merlin, that is no way to talk to any lady," Lancelot quietly scolded his new friend, "especially a princess."

As the man smiled shyly, the princess smiled sarcastically at the person who had quickly grown to be one of her closest friends whilst he scowled at her: "I like him. I think we should keep him." Laughing along with Guinevere, Arwyn's eyes were soon drawn back to Arthur who was finishing his training session with the new recruits. Nudging their own recruit forward, she spoke lowly: "If you are determined to go through with this, now's your chance."

Barely a breath had passed before the prince's gloved hand smacked Lancelot to the ground. Cringing at the sound, Gwen gasped lightly as the surrounding knights snickered in amusement. Arwyn sighed as Arthur began to walk away, turning his back on the dark-haired man. Taking a step forward, she paused. A slight smile crept onto her face as Lancelot refused to give up on his dream and rose from the muddy grass.

"I am ready now, Sire." He called after the blonde royal. Authority and confidence exuding in his words as he stood tall.

"You are, are you?" Arthur responded, a sliver of smugness sneaking through his expression angering the princess. "Fine. You can start by cleaning out the stables."

The knights erupted into laughter as their leader caught up to them, a self-righteous smile on his face. Arwyn's jaw slackened and her nostrils flared slightly as Lancelot looked back to them for support. Gwen returned his confusion with a sympathetic smile whilst the prince's manservant grinned in a childlike manner and offered two thumbs up. Glancing to the young princess, the wannabe knight received nothing as she picked up her skirts and marched after the prince.

She caught the group of men as they headed towards the town; her warpath unwavering despite the knights that surrounded the source of her anger.

"You are an insufferable prat, you know that?"

Arthur's expression remained passive as he toyed with his gloves. He had expected something from her regarding his dealings with Lancelot. Her expression had given her away as he had stolen a glance prior to walking away and so he simply muttered: "Good afternoon to you too."

"Was that display entirely necessary?" She asked rhetorically. Eyes hard and searching for his as they successfully avoided her. "Or did your ego require a massage?"

Rolling his eyes, the prince finally looked at her with a bored expression – further pushing her buttons as he explained, "I was teaching him humility."

"You were marking your territory." Arwyn quipped as quick as a flash; suggesting that she had known his response before he had even considered it.

" _Please._ He was given as much chance as everyone else."

Arwyn scoffed, an action that the prince had expected. One which prepared him for a sarcastic argument. He was not disappointed: "I don't see Grummund cleaning the stables." Crossing his arms, he fought to hide his amusement as she dramatically searched around. "Nope, definitely not here." As she rubbed her chin in feigned contemplation, she added: "I wonder how _his_ face is after you slapped _him_." Her eyes widened with false realisation, prompting him to sigh and continue walking. "Oh wait. You didn't slap him. You treated him like everyone else." Catching up to the taller royal, she ordered: "Don't walk away from me when I am talking to you, Arthur." Upon hearing her words, he stopped and sighed heavily through his nose. "Lancelot was dismissed because Merlin suggested him." Arwyn concluded, "Or was it because I arrived to support him?"

"Don't flatter yourself." It was Arthur's turn to scoff as he rolled his eyes and turned back to the younger woman.

"Give him another chance. A _real_ chance."

"Why?" The blonde retorted to her plea. "Why do you care?"

"Because all he has ever wanted to do was protect his people and he wants to do it by your side." The princess answered, stepping closer to him and fighting a smirk as he sighed in defeat and looked sincerely into her eyes. She had him right where she wanted him, and it was no secret to either of them. Though he would never admit it, Arywn had incredible power over him; an innate ability that urged him to do whatever she wanted. "Besides," She smiled: "I doubt you will find many men who after five minutes with you, don't want to stick your head on a pike."

The knights behind them chuckled as the young woman patted the prince's chest and began to walk away. A slight tinge of pink brandishing Arthur's cheeks as he spluttered: "Arwyn!" as if shocked by the petty revenge. However, as she ignored him and began conversing with a little girl, he turned back to his men and muttered: " _Women_."

* * *

A thundering at the door of her chambers jolted her out of her reverie as she sat on the windowsill, engrossed in another of Gaius' books. The rapid knocking continued, causing her to peel her gaze from the magical creatures and slowly make her way to the threshold. A gentle frown creased her forehead as she pulled the wooden door open to reveal a rather flustered Merlin.

"Sorry." He rushed, slightly breathless with blue eyes widened. "I wanted to get here before Gaius."

Arwyn's frown deepened as she crinkled her nose in confusion: "What? Has something happened?"

"No. Well, sort of…Kind of. Not really. I mean…"

"Merlin!"

As the young man's ramblings came to a halt, he scratched the back of his head and grimaced: "You might want to avoid Gaius for the foreseeable future." Glancing down the corridor to check they were alone, the serving boy then whispered, "He knows about Lancelot."

"You told him?!" The princess shrieked, only to be hushed by Merlin as he protested in innocence. "Merlin, what are we going to do if he tells Uther? Or if someone else finds out? I can't protect both of you."

"It will be fine!"

However, it appeared that the young boy had spoken much too soon as a rather angry whirlwind of blue and grey swept them up and forced them into the chambers. As the door slammed shut, the two friends eyed each other out of the corner of their eyes as they awaited the scolding.

"How could you be so stupid?" The court physician exclaimed after a long and uncomfortable silence. His face reddening as he stared at the young woman that he had bonded with since the moment they met, nineteen years ago. "This is treason, Arwyn, and the second time you've considered it in a matter of months!"

"I haven't done anything." The princess responded, her voice even.

As Gaius' eyebrows rose to his hairline and he feigned belief, she knew this was far from over: "Oh right. I was unaware that you told Arthur that Lancelot was not of noble birth?" Merlin lifted his gaze from the floor to glance at Arwyn as she opened her mouth to defend herself, only to close it as the old man continued: "And that you stopped Lancelot from trying out for the knights when you were told of their plans?" It was the young woman's turn to look at the floor, avoiding eye contact with every ounce of her ability as the physician repeatedly swapped his glare between the pair. "Oh, and of course, you had _no_ hand in Arthur changing his mind about giving him a chance?"

"Okay, that one _was_ me but…"

Her defences were soon halted as the man held up a hand; her respect for him immediately silencing her as she met Merlin's stare. The duo shifted on their feet as the man glared at them, the fury behind his eyes making them feel like siblings being scolded by their father: "I think perhaps the two of you ought to think about your uncanny ability to seek out trouble and then your incessant need to involve the other one." Their gazes dropped to the floor once more. "My chambers need cleaning see it done whilst both of your heads are still attached to your shoulders!"

Merlin's head shot up at the decided punishment: "Arwyn's the princess you can't…" He began to argue, only to meet the stern expression on his guardian's face. Stammering slightly, he looked to Arwyn who offered nothing but a simple nod, prompting him to sigh in defeat and glance back at a rather serious Gaius before settling back on the princess: "You can use the good broom."

* * *

The sweat created a sheen on her forehead. Her hair fell from its ribbon restraints and into her eyes, prompting her to huff as she banished it every two minutes. A reddened blister grew on the side of her thumb as she swept the dust from the floor, allowing Merlin to scrub the wooden boards behind her. The small physician chambers grew hotter as the sun shone through the tiny windows; growing uncomfortably stuffy as the friends worked.

"I think he made more of a mess just to punish us." The serving boy grumbled, throwing the cloth into the bucket again and splashing water everywhere.

"I guess we deserve it."

"Don't go all regretful on me now."

Arwyn grinned at his expression, running the back of her hand over her brow once more. Placing the broom to the side, she pouted slightly as she examined the blister: "It's at times like this I wish I was a sorceress." She muttered, prompting Merlin to freeze before turning to look a her. Frowning at his odd behaviour, she explained: "I could have this done with a click of my fingers."

As his shoulders visibly relaxed, the raven-haired boy laughed. His eyes sparkling as he added: "With the amount of trouble you land yourself in, you'd be dead by morning."

"You mean the amount of trouble _you_ land me in?" The girl retorted as she raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk toying at her lips. "I swear my life was a lot less interesting before I met you, Merlin."

"And yet despite all of that and Geralt's and Uther's disapproval, you're still my friend." He grinned, "I'll take that as a compliment."

"Well, no one else is going to give you one." Arwyn shrugged; a melodic laugh escaping her lips as the young man dipped the cloth in the bucket and launched it at her. The water spurted her in the face as she threw her arm up to protect herself.

Suddenly, shrill screams emerged from the town, prompting the curious two to forget their punishment and run towards the noise. The soles of their boots slapped against the cobbles as they ran to the main square. Panic spread through the people like a plague, as the injured ran towards the castle in the hope of protection. Thick, fresh blood was a common sight and it only increased the worry. The warning bells battered their eardrums.

"Gaius!" The princess called out over the din, dodging the crowds as she caught sight of the physician tending to a woman with a nasty head injury. "What can I do?" She asked, upon reaching him. Merlin a mere half-step behind her.

"Do you remember the basic suture I taught you?" The physician responded, reminding the young princess of the afternoon they had spent stitching pieces of fruit. As Arwyn nodded, the man pointed to his bag. "There are needles over there. Do what you can."

Once she had successfully threaded the needle, she was soon thrust her first patient. The elderly woman rattled with shock as she stared at her with large brown eyes: "It's okay." The young royal whispered. "You're safe now. May I take a look at your leg?" She asked, nodding towards the blood-soaked skirt. As the woman nodded, Arwyn smiled softly and carefully ripped the fabric away in an attempt to maintain the woman's dignity. The wound was deep, and the blood seemed never-ending – regardless of how much pressure she put on it. Her sea-green eyes widened as she searched the crowd for an extra pair of hands.

"Am I going to die?" The greying woman whispered, noting the concern on the princess' face. "It's alright. It doesn't hurt."

Turning back to her, Arwyn looked deep into her eyes: "You are not going to die. I promise." A flash of familiar armour caught her attention, filling her with hope as she called to him. His dark eyes immediately landed on her as he broke into a run. "I don't know what to do." She rushed as he knelt beside her. "I can't stop the bleeding."

Sir Geralt nodded to his princess as she removed her blood seeped hands. His eyes scanned the wound with inhuman speed before he ordered: "Fetch me that torch." As Arwyn's eyes widened at the prospect, he grunted roughly. "Do you want her to live or not?"

"The shock will kill her!"

"And if I don't try, she'll die anyway." Comprehending the serious expression on his face, the princess nodded and pulled herself to her feet, grabbing the flaming torch from its nest on the stone wall. Her hands trembled slightly as she held it out to her protector, watching as he removed his belt and forced the woman to bite down on it. Arwyn observed as the knight heated the blade of his dagger in the flames. "Hold her hand."

Doing as she was told, the young woman crouched beside the older one and clutched her hand. The smell of burnt flesh soon accompanied the muffled scream as the blade was placed against the severed blood vessels. Arwyn's eyes slammed shut as she looked away, trying to stomach the sight mingled with the stench. Suddenly, the hand that gripped hers fell limp.

Her brows knitted together as she opened her eyes and looked at the woman: "No..."

The scarred knight of the Distant Isles smiled slightly as he withdrew his hand from her wrist: "She's alive." He assured. "Her pulse is weakened but the bleeding has stopped. If she is seen by a proper physician, she should live." The man added, surprised as the young woman engulfed him in a tight embrace. Chuckling slightly, he patted her back. "That's enough of that. People'll think I've gone soft."

* * *

The celebrations were in full swing just hours after Arwyn had stood by Morgana and Gwen in the throne room, beaming with a strange sense of pride as the King lowered his sword onto Lancelot's shoulder. The dark-haired man had entered Camelot as a nobody but as he rose to his feet, he had earned himself a title with aid of a little meddling from his new friends.

After dressing for the feast, the three young women made their way into the Hall of Ceremonies. Music echoed off the walls and mingled with the chatter as the noblemen and women celebrated the new knight of Camelot; and they were not the only ones with an interest in the man. Guinevere had grown rather fond of Lancelot and despite how subtle she believed herself to be, nothing had escaped the princess' notice: "You're staring." She smirked, causing the handmaiden's olive complexion to take on a rather deep tinge of red.

"He _is_ cute." Morgana defended.

Arwyn tilted her head as she surveyed the man who had moved to sit beside the prince: "I suppose he is but he's not my type." She hummed, gracefully accepting the goblet of wine from one of the servants.

"No, he lacks the rogue-ish charm you always wanted." The King's ward smirked, her eyes full of laughter. "Although, I don't see _any_ of that in Arthur…"

"Perhaps that's why I feel nothing for him." The princess retorted defensively, her eyes flashing with annoyance that informed the older girl that she had pushed the right buttons as Gwen shook her head with a soft chuckle.

As the trio chatted and walked further into the room, they drew the attention of their topic of conversation: "Here's trouble." Arthur muttered as he watched her enter the room. The light from the flames added an auburn glow to her curls as they were bound in a loose ponytail, high on her head: simple yet it made her look sophisticated. Her dress was a deep scarlet, a political statement that Sir Geralt had undoubtedly convinced her to wear. The light fabric danced gracefully along the floor as she seemingly floated into the room and the young Pendragon found it almost impossible to take his eyes off of her, especially when they noted the way that her own lit up as she laughed at something unknown to him; her dimples carving her cheeks. "Tell me, do you think her beautiful?"

"Yes, Sire. I do." Lancelot responded rather dreamily, however it was not the princess that he spoke of for his gaze had settled on the object of his own affections as she left the noblewomen and made her way towards Merlin.

"Yes, I suppose she is…" The prince hummed, unaware that they were talking about different women. His gaze lingered on Arwyn. He could never quite understand her; anytime he believed that he was close, she would surprise him. It was as if she were a book that was sealed only to him, as others believed her predictable or understood what she was thinking, he could never quite read past the title. The rare moments in which she allowed him a sentence or two, were short-lived as she grew defensive and slammed the cover shut once more. The princess was able to read him with ease and so it was only natural that he felt at a disadvantage. Vulnerable to her power. Sensing his regard, Arwyn's eyes met his - brewing an unfamiliar feeling within him. She offered him a gentle smile which he returned, gladly holding her gaze until Morgana reclaimed her attention.

"Now you're staring." The taller brunette muttered, causing the princess to blush a deep scarlet before snapping her gaze to her. A large smirk coated Morgana's pink lips as her emerald eyes narrowed, a plan formulating at the back of her mind. "Let's give our prince something to stare at."

As if by accident, Arwyn found her regard lingering on the man once more as he spoke with Lancelot. However, a deep frown contorted her expression as she comprehended what her friend had said: "Wait, what?" She asked, turning to the older girl who had a firm grip on her arm and was pulling her in the opposite direction. "Morgana!"

Minutes seemed like hours as she was handed off to different men. Morgana laughed and twirled her hair at each of them as Arwyn smiled politely and twisted her hands in front of her. The son of one of Uther's allies spoke incessantly. He was a handsome young man, merely a few years older than herself, but his words fell on deaf ears as he listed each of his accomplishments and his successful missions. The world within her head appeared much more important to her as she glanced around the hall, finding none of her friends. The king's ward soon slammed her foot onto the princess' causing her to jump and look back to the nobleman, nodding with feigned interest and bidding him farewell. Releasing the sigh that she had been biting back, the younger brunette was soon greeted by another man, this time closer to her father's age than her own. He was a wine merchant and a very successful one at that, his eyes were a deep, kind, blue but unfortunately, not the ones she had subconsciously found herself looking for. Her feet began to ache as she remained firmly planted beside Morgana. Finding her goblet empty, she acquired a full one from a serving girl however, her guard had quickly swiped it from her grasp – perhaps to rescue her from the inevitable embarrassment the morning after; he was, after all, a common enemy of the mortifying potion of hangovers and shame. Praying that he would rescue her from the conversation, she was sorely disappointed as he was apprehended by three women.

"You look like you are having a terrible time." His breath whispered against her ear causing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end as she peeled her uninterested stare from her protector.

Privately grateful for his presence, Arwyn smiled and turned to face him: "Perhaps I am." She answered softly as she took a step back, placing an appropriate distance between them. Studying her for a moment, Arthur offered his hand, smiling as she took it. "Did you know that there are between seven and thirteen different tastes of wine?" The princess spoke as he guided her away from her captor who was enthralled by another knight. "It all tastes the same to me." She finished, sending a glance to the man she had just abandoned. As the prince laughed, he captured her attention once more. Chuckling slightly, she shook her head – a light tinge of pink painting her cheekbones. "I just don't know how she does it."

"She loves the attention." He answered, quietly memorising her expression as she watched the older brunette. "Always has."

"She is probably the type of Lady that my father wishes I was."

Arthur subconsciously grazed her arm with his hand as he muttered: "I'm glad you're not like Morgana." However, he soon felt vulnerable as she turned back to look at him with considering eyes and so he simply shrugged, "I'd get bored."

"I never thanked you for giving Lancelot a second chance."

"That's because it would involve showing a sliver of appreciation for me." She rolled her eyes at his smirk before shaking her head with a musical laugh. Tendrils of deep auburn hair grazed her shoulders as it escaped the clasps that constrained it. It always seemed to be the case with her hair; something the prince had always thought very befitting to her – wildfire continually caged as people tried to tame and mould her into the role she had been born into. Tilting her head, her eyes narrowed softly as they trailed over his expression; another silent communication that he doubted he could ever decipher. "So." He began, breaking the silence as she gently picked a piece of lint from his jacket. "Did anybody catch your attention?" He asked, the wine fuelling his intrigue towards her intentions. As he nodded to the men that Morgana had coerced her into speaking with, picking them out of amongst the hundreds within the hall, Arwyn wondered just how long he had been watching.

Arthur's attention immediately returned to her as she followed his gaze and smiled at a thought that had crossed her mind. Her eyes sparkled in the candlelight, her cheeks flushed from the heat. He studied her briefly, as she ran her bottom lip between her teeth and considered her answer before turning to him with a coy smile: "Perhaps one."

Her eyes wandered his face before holding his gaze; the magnetism between them, seemingly pulling them closer. Suddenly, a rush of brunette in the shape of the king's ward passed between them: "There you are! Come on, there's someone I want you to meet."

And before they knew it, they were yanked to separate sides of the room.

* * *

The edge of her skirts swept the floors as she all but ran down to the dungeons. As noon approached, the sun rose higher in the deep sapphire sky and the castle seemed to burst into life. Guards and servants went about their daily duties, seemingly invisible to the knights and noblemen that passed them without a single nod of acknowledgement. Growing up, Arwyn had always been taught to treat everyone with humanity and to exercise humility. However, today she had been just as bad as the Pendragon prince that she had often scolded as her mind warped around a thousand different scenarios, crafting ways to undo the mess that she had helped create. To return freedom to the man that she believed to be more honourable than half of those born with nobility.

A cool breeze blew through the cells forcing the hairs on her arms to stand on end. The flames danced above the torches, gently caressing the stone walls as if greeting a long lost lover. Lancelot sat with his back against the wall, head in his hands; hiding the guilt that twisted his expression. As the echoed scuffing of her feet drew closer, he looked up; pitiful sorrow painting his tanned face.

"Merlin told me what happened, I came as soon as I could." She whispered, stepping close to the bars to maintain privacy from the guards. It had been barely after sunrise when she awoke to a panicked hammering at her door accompanied by a scuffle and a hushed argument before the manic manservant burst into her chambers (pursued by her rather unamused sentry) and alerted her to Lancelot's fate. "Are you alright?"

As Lancelot nodded, he too approached the iron bars: "Yes, My Lady. I only hope that I did not bring you any more trouble."

"No. Of course not." Arwyn smiled softly, however her expression soon distorted into a guilt-ridden frown. "I should have seen this coming. I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologise for. Neither does Merlin." The man scolded before glancing down at his hands in shame. "What will happen to me?"

"Nothing." The princess rushed, a gentle sigh parting her lips as she continued. "I fear that the King will not change his mind. Having said that, I will do everything I can to ensure you are not harmed." Her stubbornness shone through her eyes as if they truly were a window into her soul. "You have my word."

And as quick as she had joined him, she was gone; leaving nothing but a whisper of hope in her wake. Although the man silently prayed that whatever plan she had running around in that obstinate mind of hers was not going to get her into trouble; proof that he did not truly know the young royal as many would argue that trouble was in fact her middle name.

* * *

The chorus of warning bells performed the soundtrack for the remainder of the day as the creature finally reached Camelot. The kingdom had felt very much like sitting ducks, waiting to be hunted for sport. As the blood flowed, seeping deep into the cracks between the stone slabs within the inner courtyards, hope began to diminish.

"It's a griffin. It can only be killed by magic and yet Uther thinks that Arthur is the exception." Sir Geralt had grumbled as he returned to check on her. Satisfying her curious mind as he paced back and forth. His sword swung low at his left hip and his light chain-mail clinked slightly each time he turned. A gloved hand stroked the stubble that roughened his jaw as he scoffed. "The man is a fool."

"Have you ever fought a griffin before?" The princess asked, her legs crossed beneath her as she took her usual spot on her windowsill.

"Nay. Hadn't heard of it before Gaius identified it."

"Then how do you know that it can only killed by magic?"

"Because the books declare it to be a creature born of magic. It was well known among the sorcerers in your father's council that conjuration…" The greying man paused his lesson as his attention was drawn to the absent-minded look on the young girl's face and the frown that began to manifest. "You're no longer listening." He concluded, crossing his arms against his chest with a raised brow.

"He cannot defeat it." She muttered, looking back to her knight - an undecipherable expression on her face; one that often appeared in relation to the young man. "And Uther is sending him out to his death." Standing abruptly, Arwyn swallowed and took a breath, raising her chin in decisiveness: "There's something I must do."

* * *

Darkness coated the kingdom and the princess had made up her mind. Helplessness was not a trait that she aspired to have associated with her. Therefore, she had concluded that whilst she may have no power over the outcome with the griffin there was at least one person that she could save.

And so, true to her word, Arwyn pulled on her dark green cloak. Her fingertips ran across the warm keys that she had stolen from the prince's chambers shortly after abandoning her guardian. In truth, the small brunette was unsure if her motives were for the man in the dungeons that she was willing to call a friend, or if they were a petty symptom of her incessant need to disobey the King. It could very well be argued that the difference in moral opinions and the opposite stance regarding magic was a driving force in much of the princess' rebellions, however in this case, she liked to believe that any good person would opt for the same course of action. That allowing freedom to a man whose only crime was the selfish pursuit of serving his king and protecting his people, was the right thing to do. The only thing to do. And yet, a small voice in her head pictured the fury on Sir Geralt's scarred face and wondered what her father would make of it; if he would be proud of her or if he would be disappointed with her propensity to leap before looking.

Time was scarce and so she forced the doubt that festered to the back of her mind and pulled the heavy hood over her head. For anyone who knew the castle, it was easy enough to navigate to the dungeons in the dark; however, the young royal knew the route like the back of her hand. In all the years since the prince and princess used to sneak a peek at the prisoners or find the abandoned corridors to evade their nurses, the King had not learned to rotate his guard postings - something that worked in her favour.

Her hands trembled slightly as she dipped the small pile of straw into a nearby torch. Allowing it to burn for a mere ten seconds, she blew out the flames with a determined expression barely visible in the darkness. To the most trained ears, the soft padding of her tiptoes could be heard very faintly as she approached the grate in the wall and stuffed the straw inside. Blowing as quietly as she dared, the princess forced the smoke to enter the dungeons. Hiding in the shadows, she waited until the guards ran past before beginning her descent down towards the cells.

"What are you doing?"

Her heart jolted as the voice broke the silence. Silently cursing, Arwyn spun around; almost toppling down the stairs whilst she squeaked: "Nothing." As his eyes trailed down to the set of keys in her hands, she cursed once more and thrust them behind her back as if playing to the childish belief that if you cannot see something, it is not there. However, the prince was far from fooled as he stepped closer to her. His breath fanning her face as he reached behind her back and took the metal from her hands. "Arthur, it's not what it looks like."

"Really?" Arthur hummed in response, raising a brow as he looked down at her. "Because to me, it looks like you stole my keys with the intention of releasing Lancelot."

Her sea-green eyes widened slightly as she realised she was trapped. Sighing gently, she looked deep into his eyes as if trying to search his heart for his next move. "Please, don't tell your…" She began, her voice barely audible as she clasped her hands in front of her.

"I was about to do the same." Arthur interrupted, watching as Arwyn opened her mouth to argue before her eyebrows knitted together and she comprehended what he had said. Her shoulders visibly relaxed as he tilted his head before heading down towards the cells. "And I wouldn't do that." He suddenly muttered, knowing that despite the long silence, the princess had followed him. As she sent him a questioning frown, he elaborated. "Throw you to my father with no regard. I would never do that." Her gaze immediately dropped to her feet; perhaps out of nervousness or speechlessness or perhaps to hide the subtle pink blush as she fought the grin that toyed with the dimples on her cheeks.

The door to the cell creaked open as the royals entered, prompting Lancelot to drop into a respectful bow; an action that Arwyn believed, only made him more endearing.

"I should have known. How could I have been so stupid?!" The prince exclaimed, venting his frustrations towards the brunette as he stood up straight. His cheeks flushed with anger and his nostrils flared as he continued: "You don't sound like a knight, you don't even look like a knight!" Arwyn stood quietly by the door, allowing Arthur to say his piece as Lancelot bowed his head in shame and apologised. "I'm sorry, too. Because, Lancelot, you fight like a knight. And I need...Camelot needs…"

Lancelot stood, eyes trained on his feet, and quietly took whatever words were thrown at him but as the prince trailed off, he looked up to him with a curious frown: "The creature?" He asked.

We could not kill it." Arwyn could hear the disappointment in Arthur's tone and knew how hard he was being on himself. "I've never faced its like."

"I faced it myself, Sire. Some days past. I struck it full square. I wondered how it endured."

The princess suddenly spoke up, drawing the attention of deep brown eyes. "It's a griffin." She concluded. Relaying everything she had heard from Sir Geralt. "It's born of magic and many believe that magic is the only thing that can destroy it." At this comment, her eyes went to the side of Arthur's face as he stared in front of him. As always, he was very aware of her but fought to protect the walls he had built around himself.

"Do you believe this?" Lancelot asked, his eyes wide as she glanced back at him and offered nothing but a helpless expression and a feeble shrug. Turning to the other man in the room, he repeated his question. "Do you believe this?"

"It doesn't matter what I believe. The use of magic is not permitted." The defeated tone in his reply caught the attention of his companions but nonetheless, the prince stood straight and affirmed: "The knights must prevail with steel and sinew alone."

"There is a horse waiting for you outside. I packed it with some provisions that should last you a few days." The princess informed, very much aware of the time that had passed since she had first executed her plan.

"Thank you, My Lady." Lancelot gushed, "Thank the both of you." However, his joy was short-lived as Arthur ordered him to take the horse and to never return. As his expression crumpled to one of distress, Arwyn truly felt for the man. "No, it is not my freedom I seek." He pleaded, shaking his head. "I only wish to serve with honour."

Arthur sighed, whispering: "I know."

"Then let me ride with you, Sire."

Observing the conflict on the Pendragon's face, Arwyn instinctively found herself moving to his side. Her arm brushing his as she crossed her hands in front of her and spoke the words that were needed. "I'm sorry, Lancelot. Your freedom is all that we can give you. The King knows nothing of this."

"I release you myself but I can do no more." Arthur finally spoke, nodding in agreement with the young woman beside him. "Now go. Before I change my mind."

* * *

The knights readied themselves in the square below them as they stood on the balcony. Few words had passed between them since Lancelot had left the kingdom and yet neither of them had motioned to leave the other's side. The heavy silence continued as the prince tightened the cuff of his gauntlet before glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. Her expression was passive but he knew from the slight tension at the corner of her lips that she was far from indifferent about the mission.

"Don't do it." She finally muttered, eyes flickering among the knights as they mounted their horses and awaited their leader. Turning to the man beside her, she spoke with all the conviction she could muster. "Don't ride out against it. It is a creature of magic and cannot be killed without it." Blinking once, her chest rose as she took a deep breath and swallowed the emotion that swarmed in her stormy eyes. "You'll die." The worry contorted her brow, no matter how hard she fought to maintain composure.

Arthur nodded once and looked out over his men as he simply responded with: "I have to try."

"Please, Arthur." The pleading tone caught him off guard as her eyes searched his expression. Drawing her tongue over her bottom lip, she looked away prompting him to take her hand in his to regain her attention. "We can find a sorcerer and…"

"Magic is forbidden, you know that."

Her eyes grew visibly darker as another emotion entered them. Arthur ran his thumb over the back of her hand as the frustration bubbled over: "And yet it seems to be the only thing that can save the kingdom in the war your father created!" His jaw clenched slightly on the left side, yet he refused to answer her. His lack of response surprised her. She wanted him to rise to her challenge. To argue with her. Perhaps somewhere in the back of her mind it made it easier to watch him go; after all, how can you worry about someone and harbour anger towards them at the same time? However, her flawed logic soon showed its cracks as she sighed and looked down at his hand that was still wrapped around her own. "Please, be careful."

Arthur smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes: "Careful, I might start thinking that you care about me." As she rolled her eyes gently he placed his free hand on her lower cheek, cradling her jawline as he grazed her face with the pad of his thumb; her eyes studying each microexpression that crossed his own. "I have to go." He whispered causing her to nod as a slight sigh parted her lips. He placed a lingering kiss on her forehead, holding her in the closest way that social convention would allow; remaining there for a moment, perhaps remembering her. The softness of her skin, the feel of her hand in his and the smell of her hair. The little facial expressions she made whenever she thought no one was watching and the infuriating bullheadedness. Stepping backwards, he stared deep into her eyes as if trying to send her his deepest and darkest thoughts.

Nodding slowly, he separated from her and slowly walked away.

* * *

"It will be alright."

Arwyn's eyes remained fixed on the window of Morgana's chambers, just as they had been for the last hour: "You keep saying that." The princess muttered, pulling her hand from her chin as she turned to look at the older brunette who was perched on her bed. "Are you trying to convince me or yourself?"

Morgana smiled gently, "Can we pretend it's the former?" Forcing a smile, the princess nodded. "Can you sit down? You're making me tired."

Nodding again, Arwyn sat uncomfortably on the windowsill. Hours seemed to pass though it may have been minutes. Her eyes began to flicker shut as tiredness took over but soon a white flash caught her attention. Standing abruptly, she watched the white horse gallop through the gates accompanied by Lancelot on the brown mare that she had given him. A giant grin spread across her face as she let out the breath that she hadn't realised she'd been holding.

"They did it." She exclaimed, turning to Morgana only to find her sound asleep. Smiling, the princess moved the dark curls from the young woman's face and pulled the white cotton blanket over her. As she stepped back, she blew out the candle and made her way to her own chambers to bed down for the night. Protected in the knowledge that the kingdom was safe once more.

That Arthur had returned unscathed.


	8. CHAPTER 7

Chapter 7: The Gates of Avalon I

 **Disclaimer: I do not own BBC's Merlin, their characters nor their plot. I do however own the Princess Arwyn and Sir Geralt. Their character and story arcs remain my intellectual property.**

 _The princess blew out in frustration only to groan as papers flew across the room. The king had decided that she ought to take on another duty from the unwritten list of princess responsibilities and so she was drowning in petitions from the poor as they begged for charity._

 _"Must I reply to_ all _of them?" She asked, groaning once more ad sighing as she signed her name at the bottom of what felt like the four-hundredth letter._

 _"Yes," Sir Geralt responded, his gaze unwavering as he polished his boots. "And asking me another twelve times will not change that." His brush rubbed the dry mud from the boots at breakneck speed but stopped abruptly as the young woman muttered something under her breath; undoubtedly mocking the man. "Perhaps, my Lady would prefer that I suggest embroidery lessons to the King." The man added, his voice gruff as he fought the humourous undertones. If there was anything the princess hated regarding her position, it was the sewing. Sir Geralt smiled as he recalled having to chase an unruly child and drag her by the scruff of the neck back to her lessons with the other girls in the kingdom. Arwyn had always preferred archery and swinging wooden swords with the boys or climbing the castle walls with the baker's son._

 _"No!" The horror on her expression forced the laugh out of him as she widened her eyes. His shoulders shook violently as she scowled at him: "Hand me the parchment."_

 _Soon, a familiar face arrived at her open door. As the prince delivered a new pair of riding boots to her, Arwyn rose a suspicious eyebrow: "What's the catch?" She asked, eyeing the beautifully crafted brown leather and the thick sole that was much better than the pair she had already._

 _Arthur sighed, "You said your boots had a hole in them."_

 _"I had them mended."_

 _"Why can't I just do something nice?"_

 _Arwyn laughed, almost sarcastically: "Because it's you. There is always a hidden agenda. So, what is it? Need me to cover for you? Ask you father for something?"_

 _"You don't know me at all." The prince scoffed, rolling his eyes as he crossed his arms over his chest. Sir Geralt watched them from his position in the corner of the room, fighting the chuckle that threatened to crack his scarred expression as he pretended to read the parchment that he had rescued from her chamber floor._

 _"I know you better than anyone."_

 _Opening his mouth to argue, Arthur paused upon realising that despite what he liked to believe and the sheer length of time that they had been apart, she was probably right. And so, he pursed his lips together and huffed: "You don't want them?" As his arms flew up into the air, Arwyn rolled her eyes at him and returned to the overwhelming paperwork in front of her. "_ Fine _."_

 _As the prince's hands reached out to take the boots back, the princess slapped them away: "I didn't say that I didn't want them." The exasperation on the young man's face and the inattentiveness on the young woman's was too much for the ageing knight in the corner as he finally burst. His laughter boomed through the silence, echoing out into the corridors and throughout the castle._

"So, he just gave you a gift?" Morgana asked as the pair slowly guided their horses through the forest. "No hidden agenda?"

"That's what I said." The princess responded, tightening her grip on Falen as she guided him over a fallen tree. Shrugging, she added: "Apparently he was just being nice."

"Arthur is never just being nice."

As the older girl scoffed, Arwyn grinned and exclaimed: "Exactly!"

The friends laughed but as soon as it died down, Morgana looked a little more solemn: "Maybe it's just with the date approaching."

Arwyn hummed in response, her expression faltering for a second before she shook her head and smiled, "We're hunting that morning," She informed, shrugging as she elaborated. "Arthur's idea. To take my mind off of it."

Halting at the lake, the women dismounted for a moment and took a drink from their flagon. As the breeze toyed with the tendrils of their dark hair, Morgana raised a brow: "And shooting things helps?"

"No, but its good fun."

The King's ward laughed at the bright grin that took over the smaller girl's face. For as long as she had known her, the younger girl had always shown more interest in boyish activities. As a child, she had resented the relationship that Arthur had with her as they wreaked havoc in the castle among the servants, climbed trees and partook in imaginary battles against dragons or made-up creatures with often resulting in the pair terrorising her as she read about princes from far-off lands.

"He totally likes you." Morgana eventually concluded, smirking as Arwyn opened her mouth to argue - a scowl contorting her brow. "He does." She pressed, "Always has..."

 _The ten-year-old girl sat underneath the large apple tree on the grounds of her new home. The younger pair were near the top of the tree, having raced each other to climb it. Glancing up from her book, Morgana watched as the Pendragon prince handed the princess from the Distant Isles a bright red apple from one of the taller branches before lowering himself down and sitting on the branch with her._

 _"Morgana, come up!" Arwyn called down, stopping Arthur as he went to launch an apple at his father's new ward._

 _"Ladies don't climb trees, Arwyn." The older girl responded, returning to her reading without another glance to the mischievous twosome above her._

 _"What if there is a monster and the only way to kill it is to climb a tree?" The princess soon responded. In the short time that she had known the young girl, it had become apparent to Morgana that Arwyn had an answer for everything. A silver tongue that appeared to relieve her of any trouble that she had found herself in._

 _"Send Arthur up and hope that neither come back down."_

 _Arwyn's laughter tumbled out of the tree, filling Morgana with a feeling that warmed her heart; one that made her realise that perhaps she wasn't as alone as she believed. Without looking up from her page, the girl knew that the prince was scowling, however her attention was drawn to his next words:_

 _"I don't want you to go." He whispered to the little girl on the branch beside him. "I'll miss you too much. I don't want to ever say goodbye. Not to you."_

The princess rolled her eyes, interrupting her friend's recollection: "You forget that he later pushed me out of that very tree." Raising an eyebrow, she double checked that Falen's saddle was secure before mounting the black stallion once more. "I could have broken my leg."

Mirroring her movements, Morgana mounted her snow white horse. A smirk painted her pink lips as she looked to Arwyn, "Then I guess it was a good thing that I was there to catch you."

Her hair bounced, tickling her shoulders as she laughed and shook her head: "Race you back." She grinned, tightening the reins around her fists as the king's ward nodded. Her competitive nature soon kicked in whilst the horses took off in the direction of Camelot. As the wind pulled at her hair, hooves thundered against the floor of the forest and she laughed with joy, Arwyn was truly at her happiest.

* * *

"My name is Aulfric, heir to Tír-Mòr." The older gentleman announced. The princess had been discussing the charity fund with the king when the doors had flown open, revealing Arthur, Merlin and the two travelling strangers. Robes of dark blue, and an odd-looking staff with a blue gem on the head of it drew her attention. Her eyebrows pinched together slightly as she studied it from the side of the room, it reminded her of the staff that a member of her father's council carried: a thing of magic. Curious, she subtly stared sideways to the knight who stood protectively by her side, a question in her eyes, and watched whilst he nodded once; almost as if reading her thoughts. "This is my daughter, Sophia."

The young woman carried a similar staff but that was not what drew Arwyn's stare. There was a certain beauty about her; long auburn waves that cradled her collar, snow white skin and bright pink lips, yet as the young woman bowed her head in grace, the princess found her gaze wandering to the prince as he leant against the pillar across the room from her. The older men's conversation was soon drowned out by the thoughts in her head. Arthur's eyes trailed over Sophia's face, her prominent cheekbones and soft eyes. Arwyn's jaw clenched and her own eyes narrowed; the motion, entirely involuntary. The longer the Pendragon's eyes lingered on the new woman, the more an unfamiliar feeling manifested itself in the pit of her stomach. With her arms crossed firmly across her chest, her scowl deepened until she was yanked from the unexplainable rage by her protector's elbow as it jabbed her arm. Snapping her attention to him, her eyes rolled heavily as she viewed the smirk that twisted the scar that cut through his pale lips.

Uther's words soon grabbed her once more: "These are dangerous times. What will you do?"

"We travel west to Caerleon where we have family and, I hope, a new life." The old man in the blue tunic responded.

"You must stay here awhile," At his father's words, relief seeped through the prince's expression prompting the princess so roll her eyes once more, this time with a twisted grimace, "break your journey. A noble family like yours is always welcome in Camelot."

* * *

The practise sword collided with her wrist with such force that her own weapon tumbled to the ground. The blood rushed protectively to the wound, warming it in the late-morning breeze. Using her non-throbbing hand, she roughly swept away the loose hairs that clung to her sweat-coated forehead. As she retrieved her training sword, her mind wandered back to the morning council and crafted one million different scenarios as it contemplated the prince's interest in the strawberry blonde woman. Absentmindedly, she blocked a couple of swings as she revisited his expression whilst his deep blue eyes wandered the young lady.

"You're distracted. Stop thinking." Sir Geralt instructed, yanking her out of her mind as he jabbed the back of her leg with his wooden blade and sent her tumbling towards the ground. A mumbled apology escaped her as she rose to her feet and dusted herself off, inwardly cursing herself for allowing these foolish thoughts and unfamiliar feelings to cloud her mind. Shaking her head as if to clear it, she began her training once more. "Your style is too offensive. Defend." The knight ordered after a few well executed parries, side-stepping as she swung at him heavily, leaving herself defenceless and allowing him to tap her back with the sword prompting her to drop her weapon. Frustration bubbled in her chest as she puffed out her rosy cheeks and fought back the urge to retrieve her sword with the sheer intention of launching it as hard as she could across the training ground; As she had done many times before.

"My wrist hurts and we have been doing this for over an hour. Can we call it a day?"

The knight smirked. "I am sorry, My Lady. Do you wish to return to a much simpler lesson?" He asked, sarcasm lacing his patronising tone. The princess frowned, gingerly rubbing her wrist as he held up his dummy blade and pointed to it. "This is a sword." As she scoffed loudly, her protector's laugh appeared to echo in the air around them. However, the booming thunder of his laughter was soon cut short as the previously discarded sword smacked him in the stomach with surprising force. "I guess I deserved that." He wheezed, chuckling as the princess smirked triumphantly. Nodding towards the reddened mark on her forearm, Sir Geralt wiped the sweat from his brow: "Go and see the physician for that welt."

* * *

As the sun finally begun to poke its way through the clouds, the young royal had bathed, had her arm wrapped by Gaius and met Morgana for an early afternoon stroll through the castle. Her long lilac dress caressed the stone tiles, light in its appearance as it provided the illusion of floating. The soft fabric stroked her skin, offering a gentle comfort. The stone hallways were surprisingly deserted, save for the occasional guard conducting his rounds. A gentle frown twisted her brow as she addled through her innermost thoughts, torn in half by the unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach. _What was wrong with her?_

"I'm sure it's nothing to worry about."The darker-haired young woman assured her best friend, as if reading her mind. Upon hearing about Camelot's guests, Morgana had been intrigued however nothing appeared to be as interesting as the expression on the younger girl's face. There was a certain glumness there, something that could well be accounted to the approaching anniversary...if the viewing party did not know any better. No, it was clear to the King's ward that her sudden sullen mood was a direct result of a certain prince's reaction to another woman. She had never seen this Sophia, yet its was blatantly obvious to her that she would not measure up to her friend's description of her. Morgana had seen it many times with Guinevere, in the past.

"You didn't see his face. He couldn't take his eyes off her." Arwyn mumbled, childlike in her demeanour. A gentle sigh parted her lips as she kept her gaze forward, feeling utterly foolish for outwardly showing this side of herself and yet finding that there was nothing she could do to alleviate it.

A playful smirk painted itself across the taller girl's expression, refusing to miss the opportunity to tease: "I thought you couldn't care less about him romantically?"

The princess' eyebrows rose to her hairline as she opened her mouth to defend herself: "Well, I...I don't but," She stammered, before finally articulating a more practical response, "My father sent me here with the intention of fulfilling the union that he and Uther..."

"So now you care about what your father wants and the arranged marriage?" Morgana asked somewhat rhetorically, her smirk deepening and her tone sickly sweet. "I thought you wanted to choose?"

"Well I...I do but..." She almost repeated, the same useless retorts fumbling around in her mind and portraying her as a fool. Morgana laughed harmonically, causing the younger girl's cheeks to flush a deep Pendragon red. A familiar flash of raven hair soon relieved her of her discomfort, prompting her to stride towards him. However, her relief was short-lived as she witnessed the Prince's manservant moving Sophia into the room next to Arthur's. Her vision almost fogged with the unusual feeling that she had experienced earlier in the day. Tensing her jaw and hardening her stare, she stormed up to her friend; abandoning Morgana in the process. "Why on earth would you put her next door?" She hissed, smacking him on the arm as he squealed in shock at her sudden arrival. "There are plenty of vacant rooms in the castle! On the _other_ side."

Having recovered from his assault, Merlin smirked: "I didn't know you cared." However, his nonchalant behaviour was deemed regrettable as her hand collided with his arm once more. "Will you stop hitting me!" As he screeched at the princess, Sir Leon passed; his head held high in his usual dignified manner. However, upon acknowledging the servant's tone, he raised a brow prompting the boy to grumblingly add: "My Lady." And bow his head with a masked scowl. Arwyn bit back a laugh as the nobleman smiled and then bowed his head to her before disappearing down the corridor.

As the remaining pair finally met each other's gaze, they burst out laughing however, all attention was soon drawn to Morgana's wide-eyed and almost terrified expression: "Who's that?"

"That's the girl I was telling you about." Arwyn responded with a lot more nonchalance than she felt. The taller brunette's eyes remained wide as she stared after the young woman. A concerned frown contorted the princess' brow as she touched Morgana's arm gingerly, "What is it?"

"She can't stay here."

"I agree."

Merlin fought a smirk as he ignored the princess, instead turning to the King's ward: "The King said that she and her father are welcome in Camelot...is everything okay?"

After a moment of silence, Morgana smiled. A smile that anyone who knew the young woman well enough, could tell was false. "Yes. Thank you." She nodded before disappearing quickly.

* * *

 _The water was cold and almost yellow in hue as the prince floated somewhere beneath the surface. His eyes closed and mouth unbreathing. The soft fabric of an amber cloak floated around him as the young woman stood above. Long auburn waves that cradled her collar, snow white skin and bright pink lips. Eyes unnaturally soft as she whispered in an ancient unknown tongue, her hand extended as her magic anchored the heir of Camelot. One final bubble of air escaping his lungs._

Gwen's brow rose to her hairline as she comprehended everything: "Are you sure it was her?"

The princess' sea green gaze remained firmly planted on the prince as he and the kingdom's young guest rode out of the gates whilst Morgana recalled her nightmare the previous night. Finally understanding her friend's sudden disappearance earlier, the brunette's mind shifted into overdrive as she tried to formulate an explanation. An uneasy feeling brewed in the pit of her stomach; an inexplicable anger that caused her to grind her teeth whenever her subconscious took over. Her expression was unreadable as the storm of emotion ripped its way through her mind.

"I could never forget that face."

"Then we must tell the King."

"We can't do that." Arwyn finally spoke up with a decided authority in her tone. Peeling her gaze from the retreating red jacket and the awful mustard-coloured cloak, she turned to her friends. "He would accuse her of sorcery."

The King's ward rose her eyebrows to her hairline with widening green eyes as she stared at the royal in front of her, in somewhat disbelief: "You believe me? You believe that I saw the future?" A smile crept across the surprise as the princess nodded once, squeezing her hand in affirmation.

"But if Arthur's life is in danger..." The handmaiden rushed, forcing the young women to look away from one another. "You're his ward, he wouldn't harm you."

"He hates magic more than he cares for me."

"That's not true."

Arwyn frowned and shook her head slightly, her tone slightly harsher than she intended as she asked, rhetorically, "Are we willing to risk that?"

"If we cannot alert the King then what _can_ we do?" Gwen asked, an exasperation contorting her expression as she contemplated their lack of options.

The princess' eyes wandered back to the taller girl who had glanced to her expectantly. "We will have to stop her ourselves." She announced, her tone defiant as her chin subconsciously raised in insolence. Nodding in agreement with herself, Arwyn looked back to blacksmith's daughter and asserted, "I will ride out and find him."

* * *

A fought smirk toyed at the scarred lips of the greying knight as the small group arrived back in the palace courtyard. He watched in amusement as the bustling life of the kingdom came to a halt and a heavy silence fell on the villagers as they paused to view the spectacle before them. Sir Geralt shook his head as he watched his ward dismount the black stallion and stroll towards the castle steps, soon followed by a furious flurry of Pendragon red.

Arthur's expression was thunderous as he stormed after the princess, momentarily forgetting the girl that he had accompanied into the woods: "You're sorry?!" He screamed, his words echoing through the courtyard and drawing any stray attention towards them. "You nearly shot her!"

"I wasn't trying to hit her." Arwyn's tone contradicted the man in front of her and exuded a gentle tranquillity that did nothing but anger him further.

"Nonsense, you've never been so off-target."

"I've never drank so much before hunting." She shrugged, her face taut in feigned concentration as she pointed at him. She had grown good at fooling those around her, Arthur had often argued that it was her friendship with Morgana that had warped her. In truth, she was still a fire-cracker and despite working hard to perfect the art of masking her true intentions, her tendency to allow her heart to rule often let her down. In fact, if the prince had not been so carried away, he would have noted the cracks in her nonchalance; the thin fractures that split her expression. "Who would have thought the tavern could be so much fun..."

His cheeks puffed as his face grew redder: "You tried to kill her!"

"We were hunting." Her voice was melodic, as if she had just sang her words. An entertained glint swam in her eyes as he glared at her, arms crossed tightly against his chest. "I thought she was _boar_."

"Then I have never seen a boar so beautiful..." Arthur scoffed, earning a rather loud and dramatic yawn from the young woman until she morphed it into a smile and offered a friendly greeting to the guards as she began to ascend the staircase into the castle. The blonde-haired prince huffed in frustration before finally exploding at her lack of concern. "You always have to ruin everything!" He exclaimed, raising his voice further as the brunette simple rolled her eyes and continued into the castle. "Stop walking away from me, Arwyn!"

"What?!" She finally snapped, turning on her heel to face him as they entered the cool entrance hall. An expectant look on her face as her eyes bore a hole into him. "It's not _my_ problem that you were sneaking about in the forest with a stranger whilst forcing Merlin to cover for you!"

After witnessing another nonchalant shrug, Arthur clenched his fists in front of him: "You are so..." An almost animal-like growl of frustration broke through his words as he trailed off. His arms flew up into the air as he turned his back to her. Arwyn bit back a smile, she was under his skin and she knew it; she enjoyed it. Her arms lay crossed against her torso as she leaned her weight on her left foot and raised an eyebrow. As the prince spluttered in anger, more people paused their day to witness. "You have absolutely no interest in marrying me but the second there is another, whom I like a lot more by the way, you completely sabotage me!"

"Do you ever tire of being so dramatic?" Her words tumbled out in the form of a tired sigh as she began her journey towards Morgana's chambers. However, as his words took hold, she halted and flared her nostrils slightly. This time, Arthur smirked as he drew the upper hand. Yes, the princess knew the exact positioning of each of his buttons and he had often wondered if pushing them was her favourite pass-time. However, she frequently forgot that he too knew exactly how to provoke a reaction. This simple fact mixed with their equally stubborn natures, ensured that their arguments were rarely solved until one of them caved; at the tender age of ten, the pair had fallen out over something undoubtedly trivial and had refused to speak to one another for three months until the King of the Distant Isles had demanded that his daughter write a letter of apology. As in previous arguments, the Pendragon counted backwards in his mind until Arwyn spun back to face him; as predictable as the morning sunrise. "And for your information, you pig-headed, ignorant and self-entitled prat, _we_ have _never_ discussed our fathers' plans." She retorted, eyes stormy and voice raising as she pushed closer to him with each word. "However, you needn't worry - I wouldn't touch you with a lance pole! You can run around the forest with Sophia all you like. Perhaps together you'll have a whole _half_ of a brain to rule the kingdom with!"

The doors to the council chambers swung open with a loud crack as they collided with the stone wall. The King's expression irrelevant to the fiery pair who stood a mere inch apart as they glared at each other; both now seeing red.

Uther glanced between them, annoyance brewing at the interruption: "What on earth is going on here?!"

"Bestiality!" Arwyn snapped her glare toward him as her guard tried to mask his choked laugh with a cough. As the King's brow twisted in confusion, his son clenched his jaw tightly before storming past the young woman and disappearing down the corridor, leaving nothing but the echoes of furiously heavy footfalls against stone. A deep breath calmed her as she relaxed her shoulders and turned to the nobleman, regret of her wrath washing over her like the heavy rains in autumn. "Forgive me, Sire. I believe that my temper got the best of me. I did not mean to interrupt your council."

"I am sure that you are not the only one to blame. Do not let it happen again."

As king retreated back to his business after ordering the audience to do the same, Arwyn's expression retreated back to the storm. Her eyes only darkening as the very subject of her argument made her remained presence known. Clearing her throat gently, Sophia leaned in to whisper: "Jealously doesn't suit you, _Princess._ " before almost dancing off towards her chambers.

The princess' fists clenched and her jaw tensed as she tried with all her might to fight the primal rage that boiled beneath her skin; the territorial urge to rip the girl's flowing hair out from the roots on her pale and seemingly gentle head. However, the feeling soon dissipated as a firm hand lay itself on her shoulder. Grounding her. The smell of leather and charred wood was enough to alert her to its owner and so she immediately relaxed.

"Jealously doesn't suit you, Princess." She mocked in a high-pitched squeak before scowling deeply, "I am not jealous."

"Of course not, My Lady." Sir Geralt responded simply, amusement lacing his tone and crinkling his eyes.

"Why are you laughing?"

The man chuckled as she threw his hand from her and glared up at him with accusation in her eyes. "Ever since you were but a babe, you have always wanted what you cannot have." He explained in wisdom. His tone gentle to prevent angering her further.

"Nonsense."

"Arthur shows you affection and you run for the hills, refusing to make a decision regarding marriage, but as soon as you think he is no longer interested you sulk like a child."

Arwyn scoffed loudly, almost stomping her foot like the child she was suspected of being: "I am not sulking. You have no idea what you're talking about."

Her guardian's laughter soon boomed through the corridor as she threw her chin in the air with indignation and stubbornly strolled away, trying with all her strength to pretend that she was not at all phased by his deductions nor Sophia's commentary.

 _She was not jealous._

* * *

The tincture boiled away as it sat atop the flickering flame. She had found a certain affinity to it as the colours muddled together like the turmoil of emotions bubbling just beneath her skin. Each puff of steam in perfect synchrony with the beat of her heart. The sight alone relaxed her to the extent that she could forgive the strong sulphuric smell. As blue rushed into green, mimicking the sea and the irises of her eyes, she sighed softly. Her chin rested against her wrists as they were crossed gently against the battered wooden table. Green soon found purple, prompting her to think of the long flowing nightgown that had held her mother lovingly in the final days. A tinge of sadness burned at the crinkles of her eyes, only to be banished with another sigh; as the air flowed through her lungs, it wrestled the thoughts of that night back into a secure trunk wrought in a thousand irons at the back of her mind. The whispered conversation in the corner did little to sway her attention from the glass beaker. Neither did the worried stares. As purple caressed orange, she considered her mother's long red hair - a memory that she had recovered with the help of the King - and soon, she wondered the potential of a whole lifetime of memories hidden within the thorny maze of her subconscious. Memories from the short number of years that she had spent with the Commander's daughter whom had captured, not only the heart of her own kingdom, but that of Camelot. The rustling of papers and the chink of her guardian's chain mail guided her to the present and led her to question if the Queen of the Distant Isles would have been proud of her. Proud of her strong-will and determination. A tattered metal mug thudded gently against the wood as she questioned if she was anything like her mother at all whilst a warm and gentle voice echoed through the chambers.

"I know it's not worthy of royalty, but you looked like you needed it." The physician smiled kindly as the petite brunette lifted her head and sat up straight, her gaze wandering almost dreamily towards him before casting a glance of reassurance to her guard.

Planting a smile on her pale face, she accepted the tea: "Thank you, Gaius. I am sorry if we are disrupting your day."

"Don't be silly, child. I always have time for my favourite student." The man smiled. "And with Arthur working Merlin to the bone, I enjoy the company."

Her polite smile contorted into a deep scowl at the mention of one of the two sources of her distress. Her fist instinctively clenched against the silk of her dress and her eyes hardened. In her moment of contemplation, she had concluded that it was much easier to project her feelings as anger than delve into the depths of whatever it was that was truly bothering her regarding the blue-eyed royal. The door soon swung open, nudging the wall that cradled it as it revealed a rather dishevelled Merlin.

Dark eyes surveyed the serving boy dressed in his usual attire accompanied by rotten fruit embellishments: "What in God's name happened to you?"

Arwyn watched, her eyebrows knitted together in somewhat confusion as the young man washed his face and recalled the event that had led him to spending the day in the stocks. It appeared that her scepticism regarding Arthur's sudden lack of responsibility was shared by the man who had been tending to him since birth: "And what made him neglect his duties?" The elderly man asked, a gentle frown on his face.

"Sophia." Merlin grinned, completely oblivious to the ever-darkening expression on his friend's face as she placed her teacup back on the table and found a sudden fascination with the thumbnail on her right hand - much to the stern knight's amusement as he studied her.

"The girl from the forest?"

"He wanted to take her out for the day." As the boy shrugged, amusement littering his expression, the princess scowled into her mug. "He is besotted."

"But they've only just met." Gaius frowned, unable to wrap his head around the story that was being spun.

"It must be magic." The scarred knight concluded, speaking for the second time as he peaked a brow and pulled his jesting eyes from his Lady. His words seemingly forcing the servant to choke on his water. "There is no other explanation."

The sound of her voice drew their attention immediately as she threw Merlin a gentle glance out of the corner of her eye. Her tone laced with an unfamiliar venom as she drawled with the most nonchalance she could muster: "Love at first sight."

"Poppycock."

As her guardian dismissed her, Arwyn's sullen expression returned to the beaker in front of her; internally cursing her childish thoughts and seemingly unpreventable behaviour. Her friend soon perched himself beside her as he finished wiping the dried in vegetable juice from his pale skin, wincing slightly he glanced to her: "Do I have a bruise?" Prodding his own face and wincing once more, he added, "They were throwing potatoes at me!"

"Well that's what you get for being a liar." Her tone was much harsher than she ever intended. The current frustration at her own emotions and the current situation finally boiling over and forcing her to snap; her eyes hardened. "And a terrible one at that."

"What's got you in such a foul mood?"

Sir Geralt smirked slightly, an expression that was grown accustomed to his usually stoic appearance: "More like who."

The bench that cradled both of the youngsters in the room was soon thrust violently backwards as the royal's palms slammed against the rickety wooden table, the force vibrating through the potions as they simmered. Her sigh was rough and full of the tension that lay across her shoulder-blades, twisting each muscle into tiny little knots.

"I am going to bed." She announced, straightening her dress as she raised her chin, eyes full of indignation. Turning to her guard, she ordered. "Stay here and help Gaius, or go to the tavern."

"Why?" The ageing knight chuckled, fully aware of the response he was about to receive. Arwyn and her temper had been as predictable as night and day since the moment that she had taken her first breath. Never one for patience, a mortal enemy of ignorance and a trusty ally to stubbornness. Biting the inside of his scarred lip, he watched her with as much sincerity as he could feign whilst she flared her nostrils slightly and tensed her jaw. Her head tilted ever-so-slightly to the right as she stared him down.

"Because you are irritating me and I fear that the next words I utter won't be very ladylike."

Without another word, the door was gently closing behind her. However, it was blatantly obvious to the men that the thin piece of wood would been torn from its hinges had it belonged to her or someone who could afford to replace it. Their laughter reverberated into the corridor, dampened only by the slapping of her heels on the stone floorings as she stormed towards her chambers. Running a hand through her hair and over her face, she sighed gently as she slowed to an inconspicuous stroll. _Damn her temper...and damn this kingdom for making her feel this way; for stirring old memories and childish ideals of love. This is no fairytale._

Arriving at the vast balconies of the citadel, she was violently thrown from the argument within her mind as she crashed into someone's shoulder. Rubbing her arm, she muttered a swift and albeit unconvincing apology before motioning to continue. The figure that seemingly anchored her to the real world, blinked in the darkness, the fog that appeared to have engulfed his every thought dissipated and it was as if he could suddenly think clearly for the first time in a long while. Following the retreating princess with a keen gaze, he shouted after her: "Arwyn!" Freezing at the sound of his voice and momentarily panicking about what on earth she was going to say to explain her foul mood, the brunette slowly turned around to face him. Even in the dim lighting, his eyes shined like the most expensive and pure sapphires even mined; his hair still thin golden twine. "I wanted to apologise. For earlier." He continued, brown boots quickly bringing him closer to her. "I'm not sure what came over me." Her eyes briefly grazed his expression before she nodded but once and continued her journey to her chambers, the open corridor seemingly growing in length with every step she took, making it easy for the taller royal to catch up. "Don't you have anything you want to say to me?"

"Nope."

Her tone was a blunt and nonchalant as ever, perfectly capable of pushing his buttons and that is just what they did as he scoffed: "You are unbelievable, you know that?"

This time, she sighed. Hands immediately going to her hips as she turned to face him with a careless shrug: "Arthur, if it means that much to you, then I suppose that I'm sorry for ruining your _date_." The final word fell out her mouth with a venom that neither of them had ever heard associated with it. However, as a smile crept upon the Pendragon heir's expression, the princess couldn't help but offer a slight and breathless laugh as she swept her hair carelessly from her face. "Look, I know I am not the easiest person. I am rash and abrupt, I am too quick to think with my heart, and I could really use a refresher lesson on how to be a proper lady..."

Arthur's laugh interrupted her, "You don't say?" He asked, rhetorically, sarcasm thick in his tone before sincerity slid among the cracks. "You don't need to explain yourself. Trust me, I know your flaws...just as you know mine." He watched as she slowly nodded before approaching the stone banister that enclosed the balcony that looked out over the kingdom, before returning to her side and subconsciously mirroring her posture. Silence blanketed them, protecting them from the cooling night air as the tension that previously suffocated them disappeared into the dusky sky. "Thank you for not telling my father."

"I don't like her."

His grin was bright and genuine as he turned his head to respond in jest: "Believe it or not, you've made that perfectly clear." His smile only deepened as a small one crept across her face, gently highlighting her dimples in the moonlight. "You never were very good at hiding your feelings.

"And yet, you were always very good at hurting them." Her smile disappeared with her words. It was a simple statement and yet it wounded like the swords of an entire army. It was a simple statement and yet it held more truth than either would have liked to admit.

Arthur's eyes dropped to the ground for a moment before returning to her. They always returned to her. It was an involuntary action, a reflex like the final breath one takes just before they drown. No matter the distance nor the obstacles in his way, the young prince always found himself returning to the princess that he had known since he was barely walking; the princess that in their years apart, he had forgotten. The princess that he never wanted to forget again. The torches and the moonlight illuminated her just enough for him to see the way her brows pinched slightly in the middle as she looked out over the kingdom; witness the way that once again, her hair fell carelessly from its restraints.

"I know that tomorrow's going to be hard for you." He muttered causing her expression to immediately falter to one of regret and pain. "With it being the anniversary your mother's..." He knew what he wanted to say and yet he couldn't bring himself to finish that sentence. However as he trailed off, Arwyn knew. Somehow she always knew.

"Death. You can say death." She snapped, again finding her tone a lot harsher than she intended - a bad habit that she had seemingly developed over the course of the day. Running a hand over her tired face, she sighed lightly: "Sorry."

"You don't have to apologise. Not to me."

"Funny, I could have sworn that you just demanded one for earlier..." Arthur fought a smile as she quipped, nudging her shoulder with his and forcing her to snort in amusement and turn her glittering green gaze to him. His own attention trailing the length of her face as he smiled softly at her.

"I have arranged for us take the horses for a couple of hours, before the knighting ceremony. If you still feel up to it?"

"I'd like that." Her words tumbled out with a slight whisper as she looked down then back into his eyes. "But you don't have to give up your morning for me."

The young prince barely missed a heartbeat as he responded: "I want to." Arwyn studied the sincerity in his eyes with a look that often made him question if she could read his mind. If she could hear his heartbeat. Gingerly, he raised a softened hand and moved a strand of unruly hair from in front of her eyes, never once removing his from them. As he separated his fingertips from the back of her ear, he allowed his thumb to run down to her chin. Lingering there for a moment. It was moments like this that forced them to forget their differences, leave their shortcomings unacknowledged and disregard the political weight that crushed their shoulders. Moment like this that allowed them to be nothing and yet everything at the same time. Moments like this that had them so wrapped up in the person in front of them that they would not notice the young woman that watched them from the safety of darkness, eyes glowing red with anger as she watched her spell fall apart.


	9. CHAPTER 8

**Author's Note:**

Hello! The Gates of Avalon has been a lot longer than I originally planned for it to be as I wanted to include more about Arwyn's character. To show a softer side and also give another look at her relationship with her knight, Sir Geralt. However, I hope you have enjoyed it and please do let me know what you think once you have read Part 2!

Thank you for your support, it means a lot.

* * *

 _The Gates of Avalon II_

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own BBC's Merlin, their characters nor their plot. I do however own the Princess Arwyn and Sir Geralt. Their character and story arcs remain my intellectual property.

 _ _The sun shone through the gap in the wall, gently taking the sting out of the cold winter air. Snow painted the grounds beneath the tall castle, tinting the tops of the evergreen forests surrounding it. A warm wolf-skin cloak drowned her as it protected her from the harsh northern winter of her homeland. Her breath crystallized in front of her face with each breath. Tiny gloved hands were engulfed in larger ones as the fiery-haired woman knelt in front of her. Her vision was blurred until her memory filled the blanks.__

 _"_ _ _You have the power to do anything you set your mind to.__ _"_ _ _The woman spoke, a golden crown woven into her hair as her eyes crinkled with kindness.__ _"_ _ _I have every faith that one day, you will unite people regardless of their differences and rule with compassion.__ _"_ _ _The little princess considered her mother carefully, watching as she pulled her daughter's cloak closer around her.__ _"_ _ _You possess a beauty unknown to many in our position. A rare and pure beauty…__ _"_ _ _She continued, her words weighed heavily by a force unknown to the child afore her. Sea green eyes watched, widened, as a long but seemingly fragile forefinger pointed to her heart. "…in here. Never lose it.__ _"_ _ _Her hands were cold as they reached to cradle her child's cheeks - pink as the frozen hands of winter winds caressed them. Upon contact, a gentle smile deepened the dimples on either side of her pale face. "No matter what happens, no matter the trials that will test your patience and everything you believe in, promise me that you will never lose your heart.__ _"_ _ _With a slight frown at the solemn tone, she nodded as the queen offered a teary eyed smile.__

 _"_ _ _Why are you crying?__ _"_ _ _Her voice was high-pitched and full of the tender innocence of a soul not yet touched by the darkness of the world. A tiny hand coated in leather reached up, tentatively wiping a tear from her mother's freckled left cheek.__

 _ _A frown of confusion only grew deeper as the red-head placed a wet and lingering kiss on her forehead, smoothing out her unruly auburn hair as she whispered: "I am so proud of you, my darling."__

She recalled the dream as she travelled across the grounds to the stables. The tear-stained pillows and the way in which her hair clung to damp cheeks, just below her eyes. Though she would never admit it, Arwyn had been grateful that Arthur had decided to spend the morning with her. In truth, deep down ( _ _very deep__ down) he was the only person that she wanted to see - whether or not her stubborn heart would allow her to see it. She had been uncharacteristically quiet since sunrise but as always, Sir Geralt followed her two steps behind - his fist cradling the hilt of his sword with more fervent than before. As far as he could help it, he would allow nothing to so much as twist her brow. Not today. Many say that time heals and yet, even after fourteen years, the young princess was still ingested by a darkened abyss with the sole purpose of reminding her of the day that changed her life forever. The very day that sealed her fate as the female heir to the Distant Isles - the little lady who had to navigate her way in a world full of sharks with very little power and without a mother to guide her.

Watching her with earnest, the knight began to whistle an old sea shanty that he had picked up many years before the birth of the young royal placed under his protection. A song that reminded him of one of his favourite adventures; one of Arwyn's favourite stories. See, as a unruly child, the princess would often dismiss her maids and nurses as she crawled into her bed at night, and beckoned her guard; favouring the tales of the man that she had grown to idolise. The man that she had craved to grow into; much to the council's disdain as their political pawn had to be wrestled down from the castle walls, chased into formal meetings and thrown in a dress whilst picking grass from her tangled hair, and continually scolded for her use of a sword as she claimed to have been rescuing a village from a pack of hungry ghouls. However, despite her unladylike manner, Arwyn had always remained the apple of King Richard's eye and her kingdom's sweetheart. Sir Geralt fought against the happiness that burned in his chest as he witnessed the smallest of smiles sneak onto her face as his whistled tune reached her ears; it was a simple action and yet, despite his stoic exterior, it warmed his heart to know that he had caused just a speck of her pain to ebb - if only for a moment.

Soon, she retreated back into the unknown territory of her mind where no one could reach her; not until she was coaxed out by the warmth of her trusted companion. His mane shone in the sunshine, sleek and silky, as he nudged her chin with his snout.

"Hey, boy." A gentle smile graced her features as she kissed his nose and tangled her fingers in his mane. Breathing in sync, it was as if he grounded her.

"Good morning, Your Highness." The voice snapped her attention, momentarily startling her until her gaze landed on the plump stable hand. Bumbling slightly, he rushed over and bowed. "He's been rather restless this morning, Ma'am…Although it seems you've calmed him."

Arwyn smiled once more, gingerly stroking the black stallion's neck as she muttered: "Yes, we have that effect on each other." The boy smiled, offering an apple to the horse as it's owner turned her attention back to him. "Tir, have you seen Arthur this morning?"

"Yes, Ma'am. He left near an hour ago with Lady Sophia."

"Oh." The disappointment was harder to swallow that she thought it ought to be. "Thank you." Taking a deep breath, she raised her chin slightly and ignored the emotions that threatened her resolve as she handed the young man a silver coin. It was not much but he soon gasped and thanked her profusely for her generosity, bowing deeply. However, the small act of kindness did nothing to dissuade the sinking feeling in her chest. Nor the lump in her throat as she nodded once and made her way back towards the castle.

Sir Geralt's expression turned thunderous despite the glorious weather. His eyes grew darker than the thickest forest in his homeland as he fell instep with his charge. Glancing sideways, he noted the expression that befell her face: a tiny crease between her brows as she gnawed on her bottom lip. His fist clenched his sword a little tighter - perhaps it was a reflex, the desire to defend her from any harm, or perhaps he truly wanted to take a swing at the royal prat as soon as he returned. As the sun caught the glistening at the corner of sea green eyes, the knight spoke up: "Perhaps we could ride out?" He offered but as her expression contorted to a scowl, he added: "Or Sir Leon offered to aid your crossbow training?"

"I don't feel like it."

"Why don't we visit Merlin? As much as I nag you to be seen with people of your own station, the boy does make you happy."

"He's probably in the stocks." With these words, she looked angered. However, a flash of betrayal soon brandished her expression; pinching the skin between her brows as she muttered, "And if he __is__ in the stocks, he is covering for __them__ which means he knew of Arthur's change of plans and didn't have the decency to tell me." The softness in her tone reminded the old knight of rare moments throughout her childhood. Rare moments that she had been let down by her father as his royal duties forced him to abandon their day together at a time before she had learned the workings of court.

As her guardian sighed roughly, she piqued a brow and turned to study his expression. Visibly cringing at the thought, he asked: "Do you want to…talk about it?"

An unexpected laugh escaped her pink lips, surprising both of them. A grin brightening her eyes as she spoke: "As much as I appreciate the gesture, I do not wish to burden you. I know how __uncomfortable__ you find the baring of your soul." Sir Geralt attempted to smile as she placed her hand on her heart and threw her head back in a rather dramatic fashion, however, his concrete expression offered nothing but a grimace. Taking a deep breath, Arwyn returned to what she perceived as a stoic presentation and placed a hand on his arm as she assured, "I am perfectly fine. I promise." Before nodding once and disappearing into the castle as the gruff man grumbled:

"And a perfectly terrible liar…"

* * *

The stone wall of her solitude was cold against her back; cooling her through the soft fabric of her dress. The only sounds were the turning of pages and Geoffrey of Monmouth's quill as it scratched across rolls of parchment. The quiet was exactly what she needed as she hid from the world in the pages of an old book of legends. It had always been one of her mother's favourites, one she would read in the carriage as the family travelled to neighbouring kingdoms for peace talks.

"I thought I would find you here." His voice was soft as he muttered. Surprise flitted between her eyes as he lowered himself to sit on the stone cold floor beside her. Her fingertips pulled at the book cover as the silence engulfed them. After a moment, he pulled out a letter: "This arrived for you. It bears your father's seal."

Arwyn studied the browned envelope in his gloved hands. Nodding slightly she gingerly took it, eyes trailing over familiar handwriting. Swallowing harshly, she took a deep breath before tearing the seal of her house from the parchment:

 _ _My dearest daughter,__

 _ _I wish there were words that I could write that would banish the pain that you are feeling today. I wish that I could tell you that your mother's last moments were not your fault and that you would believe me. She would be so proud of you, Arwyn. Of your strength and courage. Of your compassion and the tenacity in which you fight for equality and justice. You grow more like her each day.__

 _ _Please__ _ _cry no more. Your mother would not want you to spill your tears for the moments you missed, instead she would want you to laugh for the moments you had. The love and laughter that remains in your heart.__ _ _Do__ _ _not__ _ _distance yourself from__ _ _that love, youngling. Not today. It is perfectly fine to show weakness, it is what makes us human. In that weakness, find your strength; use it to rule with a clear and informed mind.__

 _ _I miss you dearly, and I love you more than you will ever know. More than you could understand until you have children of your own. I hope old__ _ _Geralt is__ _ _not__ _ _filling your head with too many adventures.__ _ _I am proud of you.__

 _ _All my love,__

 _ _Your father.__

A single tear landed on the paper, pulling at the ink of her father's words before she took a deep breath and banished her grief from sight. Her eyes were glassy as she folded the note and turned to the man beside her: "Thank you, Sire."

The King nodded, hesitantly patting her shoulder before standing and straightening his coat: "I had some flowers delivered to your room." His age-wrinkled brow creased with a gentle frown as he shrugged and if she hadn't known any better, she would have thought that he was unsure of himself. "They make Morgana feel better when she is ill, and I know you are not ill but…"

Arwyn smiled. Genuinely this time. Rising to her feet, she interrupted with a kind whisper: "Thank you." Before placing a chaste kiss on the man's cheek.

"Join me for lunch." Uther suggested. "I'll have the kitchens prepare something special and call for Arthur and Morgana to join us."

* * *

The table was filled with a splash of coloured fruits accompanied by various meats and breads. It was a feast and as Arwyn sank into her seat, she couldn't help but feel that it was too much. It wasn't that she did not appreciate the King's efforts but a small voice at the back of her head wanted to forget social convention and run away from it all. Hide in the woods with Falen until nightfall. The princess smiled and nodded politely as Morgana spoke about one of her potential suitors and all the gifts that he had been sending in an attempt to woo both her and her guardian. In truth, she had barely listened to a word. Finally, the door opened revealing the prince as he swanned in with an air of superiority battling with nonchalance.

"You missed the knighting ceremony this morning." His father spoke, sipping his wine as he looked down the table to his son.

Morgana glanced to her friend before turning to the young Pendragon: "And that's not the only thing you neglected."

Arwyn signed lightly as Arthur rolled his eyes heavily. His hardened stare pierced her across the table as he spoke, his tone almost taunting: "Unable to fight your own battles, are you?"

Merlin watched from the sidelines as the princess looked up from her plate and met the prince's stare evenly. Her voice as stoic as her expression - a tactic taught from a young age: "Perfectly capable, thank you."

"She just doesn't see anything worth fighting __for__." As the king's ward spoke once more, Arwyn glared at her only to earn a shrug in response.

"You just can't stand the thought of me being happy, can you?" The blonde continued as if the older girl hadn't uttered a word. His stare remained trained on the brunette across from him, also ignoring his father as he tried to step in.

Her voice remained even, unaffected by the turmoil of emotion bubbling just below the surface of her skin: "If you need an argument then fine, but don't look for one with me." She responded as diplomatically as her resolve would allow. "Not today."

"Not any day unless its on your terms. That's the way this works isn't it?" As Morgana frowned and asked what on earth his problem was, the young man continued as if she did not exist. "Perhaps now you know how it feels to be discarded, __princess.__ _"_

For the first time, Arwyn's hardened stare wavered as she was momentarily stunned by the accusation: "I have never once discarded you!" She cried in indignation before calming herself and adding, in a much more delicate tone: "I don't know what has got into you overnight but this relationship with Sophia is…"

"And we're back to Sophia." His arms were thrown into the air before colliding with the table as he leant forward. "You left! You disappeared, and you stopped writing, you can't expect me to drop everything now." The aggression that raged out of him shocked her; it was unlike anything that he had ever directed towards her.

"We were children! My mother died!" Hot, angry tears burned in the corners of her war torn eyes and her voice threatened to reveal her wounds as she made mention of her mother. Their companions jumped slightly as she slammed her cutlery onto the wooden surface with such force that the goblets shook ferociously. The King, his ward, and the manservant in the shadows, glanced around warily as they witnessed an anger that they had never thought to associate with the fiery young princess. However, as it melted, twisting into a broken expression, Merlin was taken aback. Never had he seen such weakness in his friend's resolve. "I would have thought that you of all people would understand, but you are just filled with empty promises and resentment."

Finally, Uther spoke as the princess' voice cracked with the pressure of the emotion that she had been trying to conceal all day: "Alright, enough." His expression was stern as his light green eyes bore into his son. "I think today is hard enough for Arwyn without you adding to it."

Arthur scoffed, uncaring for his father's input: "Of course, you would take her side. You want her kingdom!"

"I said, that is enough!" The King snapped, fire in his eyes and authority in his tone. "You will show the princess some respect. I have no idea what is wrong with you."

"I hate you." Her words passed through the room almost inaudible against the second scoff that escaped the thoughtless prince. It took every ounce of energy to fight back the tears that blurred her vision. No, she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. She would not give into him. "I hate you so much."

Her tone was full of emotion; broken and inundated with a weakness that she loathed herself for allowing to manifest. Her chair screeched in agony as she pushed herself away from the table, straightened her skirts and walked out of the chambers, ignoring Arthur as he shouted after her: "Good! I am glad! Perhaps now, you shall do us both a favour and return home!"

* * *

His words echoed at the forefront of her mind. Consuming her. _"_ _ _Perhaps now, you shall do us both a favour a return home"__. His behaviour at lunch had been so uncharacteristically cruel, his demeanour cold, and she wanted with all her heart to believe that it wasn't him. However, as logic crept in, she knew that her heart was wrong. That in the past, her faults had been a direct result of following her heart too strongly. Of believing it above all else. There was not a single word that the prince had uttered that she could claim to be untrue. Not one word, and perhaps that simple notion was what had broken her. Or perhaps it was the fact that they had passed __his__ lips.

Sweat coated her as she swung the sword at the training dummy once more. Darkness had grown around her, unnoticed as she fought through the pain and swung the blade again and again and again. As the helmet shattered to the ground with a clamour, she launched the weapon after it. Almost defeated, her mind wandered back to the Pendragon that had successfully ruined her; successfully torn down her resolve and trampled over it. Her fist throbbed in pain as it collided with the straw man and her sworn protector made his way towards her.

"I hate that I am nothing but a pawn to my father." She spat through gritted teeth, punching the straw once more and ignoring it as it stabbed into her delicate hands. "I hate that he wants me to marry __that__. I hate him - he's selfish and rude and…I," Her fist crashed into its stomach, " _ _hate,__ " The dummy shook violently as a force hit its heart, " _ _him__." Her fists rose once more until the knight stepped forward and grabbed her hands; knuckles red raw, foreign to the brutish force. As she pushed at his chest, he resisted. Allowing her to fight him. As he pulled her close, a choked sob escaped her. Holding her steady, he whispered soft words of comfort as she shattered into tiny pieces. "I want to go home." Her small body shook with heartbroken cries as she choked on her tears, her voice muffled by his armour. "I want my father."

Not long after the greying knight had ushered her into her chambers, away from curious and prying eyes, the princess' serving girl had run her up a hot bath and Sir Geralt had dismissed himself whilst silently vowing that he would murder the boy should he see him. Silence had engulfed the pair as the handmaiden washed her Lady's long auburn-brunette hair.

Sea-green eyes stared at the water, the thin fragments of light that appeared then dissipated appeared to calm her as her body grew weary; the stress and turmoil of the day easing into nothingness as the hot water caressed her limbs. Her voice was gentle as she spoke for the first time since returning to her room: "Meredith?"

"Yes, My Lady?"

"Do you believe that two people of my station can truly marry for love?" Her hands skimmed the surface of the water as her servant massaged her scalp. "Or am I being naive in refusing my father's… _ _my mother's__ wishes?"

"I know not, My Lady. I would like to believe that it is possible."

Arwyn sighed roughly, her eyes threatened to brew the storm that had destroyed them earlier in the day: "I will not become a Queen who has to sit by some drunken boar and pretend that she does not know nor care about his mistresses." Softening her tone, she looked round at the young servant with an air of innocence and pleading. "I want a husband who loves me. I want it to be natural, something that takes the wind out of your sails, though I fear that it is just a childish fantasy."

"I do not think so. Your father clearly loved your mother, it is well known throughout the kingdoms that he refuses to marry another, therefore forsaking a legitimate male heir."

"That does not mean that he will not birth a bastard and stick him on the throne if I do not adhere to his expectations."

As the princess' arms crossed against her bare chest in a childlike protest, Meredith chuckled lightly: "You are being silly, My Lady. If I may speak freely?" Arwyn nodded once, granting permission as the handmaiden continued, careful with her words. "Your emotions are running high with the passing of another year without your mother, heightening any feelings you may have. You are too quick to vocally dismiss Arthur. There is something there. Something that intrigues you. I see it when you are with him and from what I hear, your mother saw that when you were children."

An agonisingly thick silence suffocated them for what seemed like a century. With every passing moment, the serving girl grew more fearful that she had angered the young royal. However, those fears were eradicated by the smallest of whispers as it passed between them:

"I miss her."

* * *

Slumber had offered no solace as she was plagued with nightmares of her mother, and yet Arwyn wished she could return to that twisted world as she sat in the council chambers watching as Arthur declared that he was going to marry Sophia: "I don't care what either of you think about it," The prince announced, staring at his humoured father and Morgana before sending a venomous and carefree acknowledgement to the young woman in front of him, "and I certainly don't care what __she__ thinks."

Uther glanced sideways to the princess. Her knuckles were as white as snow as her fingernails dug deep into the palms of her hand, channelling the anger that simmered beneath her stony expression as she stared directly at his son. Her upheaval obvious to the man. Turning back to his son, he spoke with authority: "I thought you'd come to ask my permission?"

"Out of courtesy, no more." The princess frowned at the prince's behaviour as he grabbed Sophia's hand and headed towards the door. The small voice in the back of her mind urging her to acknowledge that something untoward was occurring right in front of her. Urging her to consider that perhaps her heart wasn't wrong after all. However, as she watched the king threaten to execute their guests unless his son showed some respect, she threw those thoughts to the deepest depths of her subconsciousness; sealing them tightly in a box wrought with iron chains.

"This is no doubt young love but Sophia was not the first," As Uther glanced pointedly to her, Arwyn avoided eye contact. Arthur scoffed. "and she will not be the last."

* * *

Arwyn knew that her position as a princess offered about as much influence as the length of her stallion's tail however, despite what she may have people believe, she was versed in the workings of politics. She knew that the love and respect of her people was a protective shield of its own. A bargaining chip. She had understood from a very early age that securing that love was a necessary element when it came to getting what you want, and luckily for her, she had never had any problem earning the trust of those around her. At that very moment, the princess was unsure of a lot of things but if she knew anything, she knew that she wanted things to return to the way they were before Sophia and her father had set foot in Camelot and perhaps before she, herself, had arrived. And so, she had expertly picked this precise moment to voice her concerns to the king. That precise council that included one of her best friends, the court physician that had always shown incorruptible affection towards her, and the knight of Camelot that was well on his way to becoming her friend.

"Sire, I may be young but I am under no illusions as to why my father sent me to your kingdom. He wished to rebuild a once formidable friendship through the marriage of myself and Arthur." Her words were slow and deliberate as they echoed through the small council. "Forgive me, My Lord, but I will not be disrespected in front of the entire court. How can you expect the Lords to follow a Queen who's so willingly disregarded by her own husband?"

Uther's gloved hand caressed his jawline as he comprehended her insinuation: "What are you saying?"

Raising her chin in definitiveness, Arwyn concluded: "If Sophia and her father remain in Camelot, you will have left me with no choice but to return to my father, and pursue more __worthwhile__ prospects." With a brief but respectful curtsy, she exited the chambers without looking back; missing the smirk that passed Morgana's lips as the older woman was left impressed by the power play.

The princess' shoes battered against the stone hallway as she made her way back to her chambers, only to be caught by her guard: "You don't mean that." The older man spoke, his accent thick.

"I have a kingdom to think of. I will not remain here and be treated this way, not by anyone."

"You have picked one hell of a time to start thinking about arranged marriages." Sir Geralt declared, earning a glare from his charge. "I have seen enchantments like this before…"

"Enough about enchantments!" Her voice almost shook the flaming torches from the walls as she bellowed at him, her eyes fiery and wild, and her face reddened with fury. As the air silenced between them, guilt manifested and prompted her to sigh: "Please. I'm tired of hearing it. You need to accept that Arthur is not who you thought he was." As she trailed off, the knight knew that the final order was not addressed to him at all, but to the small part of her that clung to the confused muddle of feelings that she had felt since she was but a little girl. "Prepare the horses, we ride at dawn."

"You do not want to leave." A stubborn expression darkened her features as she raised an eyebrow at him, arms crossed against her chest defensively. Sighing through scarred lips, he continued: "You have one of two outcomes if we leave Camelot. Either you return home and within one week, your father sends you back with the intention of pursuing the best suitor you have." Arwyn scoffed and rolled her eyes, ignored by her protector. "Or, My Lady, you stay in the Distant Isles and meet all the other eligible suitors and in moments of silence you realise that in a fit of anger, you lost the one person you truly want to be with. The person you wanted to marry since you were but a babe." Her face remained relatively passive until the subtle signs of a frown began to develop between her brows. "The young prince who loved you before he even knew what love was."

Arwyn's jaw slackened as she glanced away from him and sighed before dropping her arms to her sides and looking up to him with a uncommunicative expression: "You're dismissed."

Sir Geralt laughed, his entire body shuddering with the force of his amusement as he shook his head. "Stubborn as a boar." He chuckled, before placing a gloved hand on her shoulder and ordering: "Get some rest. You need it."

As the man abandoned her, she entered her chambers and closed the door. Greeting Meredith as she entered a few moments later with a fresh jug of water and some blankets.

"Do you really wish to leave, My Lady?" The woman asked, having heard news of the princess' threat from the servants in the kitchens.

"I don't know." The royal answered as honestly as she could; lines of stress on her forehead and regret in her expression as she stared out of her window and into the courtyard below. "Arthur made his feelings perfectly clear this morning." Her gaze dropped to her hands whilst she toyed with them as if the act of unravelling the knot of her fingers would unwind the problem within her mind. Meredith watched her with saddened eyes as the young woman spoke once more, her tone softer and raw with an emotion that many suspected did not exist within her. "I do not want us to grow to resent each other. To look at each other and see nothing but contempt and entrapment. I care about him too much for that…" Her next words were barely a whisper. A secret passed only between herself and the thick window pane. "…no matter how much I despise myself for it."

* * *

It had felt like forever since she had spent any time with the young boy that had become one of her closest friends. The last few days had seemingly melded into one, draining every ounce of energy from her. However, as the raven-haired servant arrived at her chambers with some hand-picked flowers from the forest and a cheesy grin on his face it was as if something was finally normal again.

"You must have hit him really hard." Arwyn concluded after hearing that he had knocked an unreasonable Arthur over the head with a lump of wood to prevent him from eloping.

"Oh yes. Took out all my frustrations."

As the boy grinned at her, she fought a smile and dramatically declared: "You're my hero." Unable to contain it any longer, the pair burst into laughter that echoed through her airy chambers until they were both red in the face. Pausing, a thought dawned on her: "But, what about Morgana's dream? It was wrong?"

Merlin's hesitation went unnoticed by the girl as she toyed with the flowers in front of her, only glancing up as he answered: "Yeah, I guess so."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Dreams that see the future don't make sense." He retorted, causing her to frown in thought. "Perhaps the girl in the nightmare was someone that she had seen around the kingdom, someone that resembled Sophia…and when she saw Sophia, her mind changed it to her. It twisted her memory."

Arwyn hummed in response: "I suppose…" Her tone suggested that she had more to say on the matter and that she hadn't been convinced by his chain of events, prompting the prince's manservant to hold his breath until she simply shrugged. "I guess deep down I had hoped that Geralt was right…that Arthur was enchanted and didn't mean a word…" Her hair grazed her shoulder as she shook her head, feeling foolish as she looked down at her hands, knotting them together nervously and missing the guilty expression on her friend's face. "I'm sorry for snapping at you, Merlin. You were only doing your job by covering for him and I am ashamed of myself for treating you that way…"

"You don't have to apologise." The physician's ward smiled, waving off any concern. "I'm sorry for not being there for you these last few days but I want you to know that I will be from now on. You can trust me."

A gentle smile embraced her as she nodded and pulled him into a hug: "Thank you for being my friend."

Merlin grinned in happiness as the princess pulled away from him. "Well I couldn't exactly ignore you after you stood up for me on the day you arrived…that would be rude." He shrugged, laughing as she playfully punched his shoulder. As they grinned at each other, he shook his head. "I had better get back to Arthur. I'll see you tomorrow?"

Within a few minutes of the boy leaving, there was another knock at her door. Shaking her head with a smiled, she motioned to open it, "Merlin, you would lose your head if it wasn't…" Her words trailed into nothingness and her smile fell from her face as she saw who was standing in her doorway. Unwilling to face him, she pushed the door to a close, only for it to be stopped short as it collided with his hand. Sighing in defeat, she pleaded: "Not today, Arthur. Please."

The distress in her tone forced him to look to his feet in a moment of shame: "I wanted to apologise. I…I was cruel to you." Glancing back up to her, he paused; praying that she would say something. When nothing came, he continued. "Those words weren't mine, I would never intentionally hurt you…"

"I thought so too. I guess we were both wrong."

Her words were quick and harsh as she stared at him, expression passive. He shifted on his feet, obviously uncomfortable: "Are you really prepared to leave? To give up everything you have ever wanted for politics?" There was something in his eyes, something unreadable as he looked at her in search of a response. "You cannot marry someone that you don't love. Someone who doesn't know you, doesn't know that you refuse to eat rabbit because you rescued one from a buzzard when you were seven. That you are infuriatingly competitive because you hate to think that you don't measure up to your own standards. Or that you sign your name with a loop on the 'n' because when you were learning to write you thought it looked regal and now that you're older, it's a habit you can't break."

"And they will not learn those things if I stay here." She finally muttered, her voice barely a whisper as she looked at him. Her eyes were cloudy with a storm that Arthur hated himself for putting there.

"Arwyn…"

Taking a deep breath, she locked her emotion away even tighter than it was before and focussed on appearing nonchalant as she smiled politely and bowed her head: "Goodnight, Sire." As the door closed between them, she rested her forehead against the cold grainy surface and fought the war inside her mind. At that moment in time she was unsure if she could ever forget the way that he had treated her. The way that he had looked at her as if she had meant nothing to him.

Little did she know that on the opposite side of the door, the prince mirrored her position. Also struggling with a feeling that up until now, he had no idea existed.


	10. CHAPTER 9

_Author's Note: I must have rewritten this chapter about a thousand times and there have been so many scenes that I have cut in an attempt to make it shorter so, I hope you enjoy it! Please let me know what you all think, your reviews mean the world to me._

Chapter 9: The Beginning of the End

Disclaimer: I do not own BBC's Merlin, their characters nor their plot. I do however own the Princess Arwyn and Sir Geralt. Their character and story arcs remain my intellectual property.

"Can I…"

"No." The gruff knight interrupted without bothering to look up from the straps of leather knotted between his calloused fingers.

"You don't even know what I was about to ask." Her arms crossed defiantly over her chest as she turned to face her protector, met only by a single raised brow. The princess sighed. "But I am oh so heartbroken, and it would make me feel so much better." Her nostrils flared lightly as she refrained from stomping her foot like a petulant child; Sir Geralt simply ignored her. This time, with feigned downheartedness, the princess sighed gently. "I suppose you are right." Glancing at the man out of the corner of her eye, she continued - misery lacing her tone. "Do you think we could leave tomorrow? I know that I said I would give it longer, but I am sure that my Father will understand when he sees how devastated I am."

An amused snort erupted from the greying man as he shook his head and finally looked up at the young woman as she stood over him with an expression of false sorrow: "How long are you going to keep this up?"

"Can I…?"

"No."

Her hand clutched her chest as she threw herself into her chair, dramatically, and gasped: "I cannot bear to leave my chambers today. How is a princess to breathe without the love of a prince?"

The warrior looked to the young royal as she feigned death, an earnest chortle exploding from him as she opened one eye to peak at him. Sighing in defeat, as if he ever stood a chance against her, Sir Geralt ordered: "Go and try on your dresses with the Lady Morgana, and I will consider it."

Her dimples grew prominent and her eyes sparked as she grinned in triumph. Leaping from her seat and placing a chaste kiss on his cheek: "You are the best!" Her companion smiled warmly; it had been the happiest that he had seen her since she had argued with the young Pendragon prince. "May you also get rid of these flowers?" The princess asked, gesturing to the abundance of blooms that littered her chambers. A tiny wrinkle appeared between her brows as she stared at them. "They are suffocating me."

"It is the kingdom's way of convincing you to stay. They are showing you that they care for you." As he rationalised, his dark eyes scanned the many vases before he too wrinkled his nose. "Although, they do make me miss the bloodied stench of a battlefield. What shall I do with them?"

"You always talk of the glory of battle, and yet you refrain from the mention of the horrors." Her tone was indecipherable as she stared out of her window. At the thought of the nightmares that he had endured during his time at war, Sir Geralt's expression hardened. His eyes grew darker than the caves in which he and his men had taken refuge. His blood ran colder than the hands of the soldiers that he had cradled in their final moments. Her voice broke him free as it echoed through the room once more: "Lay the flowers on the graves of every fallen soldier. If you have any to spare, deliver them to their remaining family." His face softened. Every so often, the young woman surprised him. She showed compassion toward situations that her young heart had yet to learn to comprehend, and the ageing soldier could not have been prouder of her; for she touched his closed- off heart in ways that he had thought impossible. Noting his expression as she turned to face him, she smiled and headed towards the door. As her hand grazed the cool metal handle and her guardian's moment of contemplation passed, she paused; a calculating smile creeping onto her face. "Except for the ones from Arthur." She continued, allowing the man a little hope that she would rekindle whatever relationship she had left with the prince. However, that optimism was soon quashed. "Take those ones and dump them on the floor of his chambers, water and all."

"You know that he will make Merlin clean it up."

Arwyn turned back to him with an innocent expression, completely contradicting her previous conniving smirk. With a gentle shrug, she added: "Then send him a bouquet in apology."

* * *

"Perhaps I should threaten to leave, then Uther might send me a whole new wardrobe." Morgana mused, admiring the needlework on one of the new cloaks that her guardian had sent to the princess in a bid to convince her to remain in Camelot. "If it will make you stay, I will send a thousand apples to Falen?" The younger girl laughed from behind the screen as Gwen fastened her corset. As she stepped out, Morgana's emerald eyes trailed her before a light gasp escaped her pink lips: "It's beautiful, Arwyn."

"You really think so?" The princess asked as she tilted her head and examined her reflection in the mirror perched on her friend's dressing table. The blush pink fabric, sparkling in the light that shone through the window, was an unusual colour for her. A subtle smile crossed her features as the serving girl held back her hair for her, allowing her to envision the complete look. The dress was indeed very beautiful and gave her an air of innocence.

"You mean, do I think _Arthur_ will think so?" The King's ward asked, a teasing smile toying at her lips. "If he can take his eyes off of you for a mere second then he is not worth the hours you have spent pining over him."

A deep scowl darkened Arwyn's expression as the handmaiden allowed her hair to fall against her bodice once more. Turning to face her friends, she affirmed: "I don't _pine_. And I certainly don't care what the prat thinks."

"Have you still not spoken to him?" Guinevere asked in a gentle, yet curious, tone as she glanced back to the young princess who simply sighed lightly with a shrug before disappearing behind the screen to change into another dress that Morgana had handed her.

"No, and I am proud of her for it! The best revenge is making yourself irresistible and entirely _unavailable_." Behind the wooden panel, Arwyn rolled her eyes at the young woman's logic. "You never saw the way he treated her."

"There must have been an explanation. You have seen the way he looks at her…"

"Yes, well, that doesn't excuse his pigheaded and aggressively insensitive behaviour."

Sighing, the princess groaned: "Just because you cannot see me, doesn't mean that I cannot hear you." Forcing Gwen to smile sheepishly at her as stepped back into sight with a lorn expression.

"I am just trying to protect you." Morgana spoke as she stepped forward and squeezed the younger girl's hand. The three women suddenly jumped as the door flew open and rattled against the stone wall. Wide-eyed, they were met by a rather dishevelled Merlin as he quickly closed the door and released a breath. "Have you forgotten how to knock, Merlin?!" The King's ward exclaimed as the princess noted the boy at her friend's side.

"The guards are after him, I didn't know what to do." The serving boy rushed with bated breath. His wide blue eyes met the princess' pleadingly as a flurry of pounding knocks rattled the wooden door.

* * *

Within a few hours, the small group had reconvened as the kingdom prepared for the execution of the Druid man that had arrived in Camelot with the boy who was currently resting on a small bed that the princess and the King's ward had fashioned, from their surplus of blankets and cloaks, in the hidden alcove of the latter's chambers. Arwyn stood between Morgana and Merlin by the open window. The square below was full of people and the thought of their entertainment brewed a thick nausea in the pit of her stomach; how anyone could bear to watch the suffering of another, let alone find joy in it, was beyond her.

"People of Camelot, the man before you is guilty of using enchantments and magic. Under our law, the sentence for this crime is death." Her heart seemed to beat in her throat as the King spoke with his usual authoritative tone. Her sea-green eyes wandered to the prince as he stood loyally beside his father; a mix of emotion twisted at her heartstrings as she considered him. "We're still searching for his accomplice. Anyone found harbouring the boy is guilty of conspiracy, and will be executed as a traitor." Swallowing heavily, the princess shared a nervous look with Merlin before she turned to look at the young druid boy. His piercing blue eyes met her own and in that moment, she saw only innocence that had been twisted by the cruelty of an adult world. "Let this serve as a warning to your people."

"You have let your fear of magic turn to hate. I pity you." As the man spoke, she knew that his words rang truer than any.

With a distraught expression, Morgana turned away from the window and made her way to the boy's side: "I can't watch this."

Arwyn's eyes widened in preparation as her breath grew bated and a heaviness settled in her chest. The world seemed to fall silent as if every creature had ceased its existence in mourning of the innocent life that was set to be taken. As the king raised his hand and claimed another life, the executioner swung his blade. A tsunami of emotion hit her as morbid curiosity forced her to watch. Will finally won as her eyes slammed shut and she turned to shield herself against Merlin's chest, savouring the comfort as he wrapped an arm around her before averting his own eyes from the murder beneath them.

Against the doleful silence, the violent thud of the man's head against the wooden platform seemed to assault the ears of anyone who dared to attend. However, the silence that smothered the chambers and cradled the three friends was ripped from its reverie by the shattering of a mirror. Peeling herself from the serving boy, her widened eyes landed on the fugitive child. His eyes wild with a fury unknown to her.

* * *

The town seemed quiet. Eerie. It was still abuzz with the daily workings of its inhabitants and yet there was unseen mist that held it captive. Chained the chattering villagers with uncertainty painted with flecks of fear. Fear of a force that they did not understand. Fear of a ruler who stopped at nothing to prove that his fears were not untoward. Friendly conversations seemed strained, suspense and suspicion was strife. Mother's and father's kept their children close and their neighbours at arm-length as the prince led his knights through each of their houses in search of the young boy that his father had deemed a criminal.

In an attempt to make but the smallest of differences to the town, the princess had elected to spend her free time with the children that lingered close to home. A gentle smile graced her features as she watched her knight 'sparring' with the seamstress' seven-year-old son.

"I want to be a princess when I grow up!" A little voice squealed, drawing her attention to the little girl who had been braiding her hair.

"It's not much fun." Arwyn responded, her hands resting against her knees as the girl tied a ribbon around her hair and moved in front of her with a questioning expression. "It is rather lonely…" She cast her eyes downward as she spoke of her life in the kingdom. A homesick pang reverberating through her chest.

"But you get to wear pretty dresses, ride horses, and marry princes!"

"Well, princes aren't all they are made up to be. They are nothing like they are in the stories that your mother tells you."

As the young child followed her gaze, she nodded in regards to Arthur who had made his way closer to the house: "Did he make you cry?"

"Who made you cry?" The boy interrupted, his dark hair falling over his eyes as he snapped his head to look at them. "I'll fight them!" The princess laughed as she watched him swing the wooden sword violently, however silence descended on them as the stick collided with Sir Geralt's stomach. Immediately, the child called out as his toy weapon was yanked from his grasp by the knight, who had earned himself a stern glare from his Lady forcing him to swallow his fury. With a strained smile, gloved hands returned the sword to the child.

Upon seeing the Pendragon as he drew nearer still, the princess dismissed herself from the children: "I ought to return to the castle now." The little girl groaned in protest until her face lit up with the princess' next suggestion. "I shall visit you again. And I am sure Sir Geralt would be delighted to teach your brother some more." A small smile twisted her lips as the girl nodded enthusiastically and her knight scowled petulantly. "Thank you for doing my hair - it is quite beautiful. Run along now, and send your mother my regards."

Nodding politely as the children ran off, Arwyn quickly located Arthur before plotting the path of most avoidance back to the castle. However, her hopes were soon dashed as the young man called out to her. It was the first time that she had heard him utter her name since she had left him staring forlornly at her chambers' door as despite Sir Geralt's best advice, she had elected to give the possibility of facing her feelings a rather wide berth.

As Arthur called out to her once more, her guardian sent her a pointed look, prompting her to stop and acknowledge the prince. As he reached her, she curtsied politely: "My Lord."

Sir Geralt rolled his eyes heavily, surprised that he had expected anything less from the obstinate young woman as she smiled sweetly at the young man who appeared to flounder, unsure of what to say in response.

"I, uh, just wanted to make sure you were okay." He finally spoke, his tone a lot calmer than he felt. "I know that the executions are…"

"I am perfectly alright, Sire. You need not worry." Arwyn interrupted, bowing her head as she turned to walk away; ignoring the displeased expression that her childish behaviour had left on her knight's face.

His hand was warm as it reached to clutch hers, pulling her closer to him. "Arwyn, please." A sigh parted his lips as he realised that for perhaps the first time, he was at a loss for words. Her eyes flitted between his before resting with an uninterested dullness. A brief moment passed before the prince spoke once more, his voice quiet and gently pleading. "I would never intentionally hurt you like that, I can't explain it but I know that those words were not my own."

"I suppose next you'll say that you were enchanted." Her tone conflicted his own as they stared into one another's eyes. She contemplated his sincerity, his warm hand still anchored to her colder one - clouding her thoughts. The bustle of the town seemed even quieter if but for a moment and Arthur wondered if, through the heavy silence, she could hear his heartbeat. Breaking from the fog that swarmed her brain, she sighed and slowly took her hand from his. "You ought to get back to your search. You wouldn't want to anger your father." Disappointment scarred his expression as he nodded in somewhat agreement, frozen as she hesitated before gingerly smoothing the collar of his shirt - her index finger grazing his neck. Clearing her throat whilst her cheeks brandished pink upon the realisation of what she had done, Arwyn immediately bowed her head and walked away as fast as her dignity would allow. Completely unaware of the eyes that followed her until she was out of sight.

"I still think that it _was_ an enchantment." A gruff voice uttered from behind her, reminding her that she was not alone. Considering his words, the princess glared darkly at the man as he raised a brow at her in challenge. Unwilling to argue about it for what may have been the fourteenth time, she simply shook her head and abandoned him by the baker's.

Moments after leaving her guard, she was yanked into a nearby alley. Upon instinct, her hand retrieved the dagger from her cloak as she spun to face the assailant. Blade to his throat, her eyes widened as they met familiar blue: "Merlin! I could've killed you." As the boy raised a brow and laughed in disbelief, she scowled at him. "I could have."

"Of course, _your Highness._ " He replied only to gasp as her elbow sharply jabbed his stomach. Chuckling lightly, he shook his head before reminding himself of the reason he had sought her out. "I need your help. The druid boy's wound is infected. You need to heal it."

"Then we need Gaius - I am not a physician, Merlin!" Arwyn argued, somewhat flattered by her friend's faith in her but completely sure that it was unfounded. "I have never actually helped anyone before."

"That's not true, you saved Lancelot."

After tilting her head in agreement, she refuted: "But this in an infection. I have only ever read about them…"

"You have to try, Arwyn." His pleading tone and begging expression made her groan as the younger boy grinned in triumph. "Besides, how hard can it be?"

* * *

"Do you even know how to treat an infected wound?"

"I've read about it." The princess admitted as she cleansed the wound with purified water. Huffing slightly she swept Morgana's hair from where it tickled her shoulder before taking the herb mixture from Merlin and rubbing it between her fingers. Shivering slightly as warm air hit her upper back, Arwyn snapped through gritted teeth: "Stop breathing down my neck."

"Are you sure that you know what you're doing?"

The younger girl huffed once more, nose almost brushing Morgana's as she turned to face her with a frustrated and mildly irritated expression. "Yes!" She hissed whilst the older woman sat back a little to allow her more room. However, as the King's ward raised a brow, the princess looked down at the druid boy with a gentle frown. "Well…not exactly." She muttered, "But I am trying my best!" The sweat beaded gently on her forehead as she blew the hair from her face and applied the strange smelling paste onto the boy's wound. Once she had finished, she ran her arm across her brow and stood up. Smoothing her dress, she nudged the other girl and nodded towards the door. "I will get rid of these rags." She informed, her voice a quiet murmur. "Keep a close eye on him, I know that it's not what Merlin wants but I think that we may need Gaius."

"I'll watch over him." Morgana promised, a worried expression coating her porcelain features as the smaller brunette nodded. As Arwyn motioned to leave, her hand was caught in a warmer one. "I am sorry. I didn't mean to doubt you, I think that you are brilliant, I just..." Her words trailed off as the princess simply smiled softly, squeezing her hand gingerly until their attention was drawn to the serving boy.

"Speak to me." Merlin urged the ever-fading boy as his friends returned to him.

"I don't know if he can't speak or if he's just too scared."

"Poor thing, I doubt we could ever imagine the things that he has seen." Arwyn smiled at the sickly pale boy, a gentle expression as she smoothed the hair from his sweat-seeped brow and continued in an equally gentle whisper. "Get some sleep. You are safe here. We will not let anyone harm you."

* * *

If Arwyn had to name one thing that she had learned that day, it was that books do not teach you everything. Unfortunately, the druid boy's fever worsened as time went on and so the trio had no choice but to confide in Gaius. To say that the old physician was angered was an understatement, however, he had treated the boy on the promise that the friends get him out of Camelot.

The guard patrols in the town were much more prominent than usual in a bid to find the fugitive. With each passing suit of armour, the princess wondered if the men behind the Pendragon crest truly believed in the fight against magic; truly believed that the persecution of a child was the right thing to do. She often wondered the same about Arthur. The prince had been raised by a single parent whose sole aim in life was to eradicate magic from his land, whereas the princess had been surrounded by enchantments and the druid way of life since the moment of her first breath.

"The guards are searching everyone leaving the town." The sound of Guinevere's voice gently pulled Arwyn from her thoughts and back to the stall in the marketplace. Merlin and Morgana accompanied them as they concocted a plan.

"There is another way out." The boy muttered whilst feigning a particular interest in the needlework of a satin garment. "There's a secret door in the armoury. It leads to the lower town. I'll take the boy out that way."

Morgana immediately argued: "No. It's too dangerous. I'll do it."

"But I…I'm good with secret doors and things."

"Merlin, anyone can open a door." Arwyn finally weighed in, having caught up with the conversation. Her sea green eyes were sincere as she considered him. "I won't let you put yourself in danger." Pursing her lips as she watched the guards pass, she lowered her voice and looked around the group. "I will do it. I am the faster rider and if I am caught…Uther would not risk a war by executing me."

"No!" The king's ward protested at the same time as the serving boy. Glancing around to check that they had not drawn any unwanted attention, Morgana continued, "I will not allow _you_ to put yourself in danger." Determination hardened her eyes as she formulated the escape. "The boy's my responsibility. I'll smuggle him out of the castle."

Sighing in defeat, Merlin shrugged: "Well, you'll need a key for the door."

"Who has it?"

"Arthur. Leave that to me."

As the two plotted, Gwen drew their attention: "You will need to be sure that Arthur is occupied when Morgana makes the escape." Considering this, the raven haired pair nodded in concurrence as the young woman added: "If he is doing something that he deems more important that this search, there will be less guards to worry about."

Seemingly in agreement with one another, three pairs of eyes landed on the princess who's attention had been stolen by a golden antique box at the stall to their left. As the silence deafened her, Arwyn glanced up to find her friends staring at her expectantly. Frowning in confusion, she glanced at each of them before realisation dawned on her.

"No! I wont do it." She protested, arms crossing against her chest in defiance.

"You need to talk to him at some point. You can't ignore him forever."

"I can."

"Arwyn, we need you to do this." Morgana's voice was gentle and pleading, earning a scoff from the princess. "Please."

Getting nowhere, the King's ward looked to Merlin who obediently interjected, "You know that he would drop everything for you."

If she had rolled her eyes any heavier, Arwyn thought that they may have rolled out of her head. Her tone and expression were full of mockery as she jeered: "Yes, because past experience has proved that. Tell me, has he heard from Sophia lately?"

"If you can't do it for us, do it for the boy." Merlin fought a smile as her jaw slackened, "You said it yourself, the boy is innocent. He is just a child."

Arwyn sighed heavily, grumbling with a scowl: "Don't use me against me." however, upon the thought of the child's execution, she threw her hands up in defeat. "What do you want me to do?"

"Invite him to dinner. Inflate his ego a little." Morgana smirked, jubilantly.

"Perfect." Sarcasm dripped off Arwyn's tongue as she muttered under her breath. "Great…really, there is _nothing_ else I would rather do."

* * *

The silence was heavy and emotionally charged, and as far as playing her role in the escape, Arwyn was finding it unexpectedly rough. As she sat across the table from the prince, the feelings she had been locking away had reared their ugly heads. Her palms were cold and clammy and her pulse seemed to rise ever-so-slightly. Sighing gently through her nose, she smiled to her handmaiden as she presented their dinner before evacuating her Lady's chambers, leaving the pair with nothing but each other's company.

After a few agonising moments of silence, Arthur finally spoke: "I must say, I was surprised by the sudden invitation."

"Don't flatter yourself. I simply did not wish to dine alone and as interesting as Sir Geralt is, his tales do get rather repetitive."

As he smirked in disbelief, Arwyn clenched her jaw in annoyance and averted her attention, mentally cursing her so-called friends for forcing her to endure such torture. Seeing this, Arthur's expression faltered and he cleared his throat: "Thank you for returning the flowers."

"I am glad you appreciated them as much as I did."

"Merlin spent half the morning…

"Yes, he told me."

"Of course he did…" He sighed as she interrupted him, nodding with disinterest. He would be lying if he said that he knew if her nonchalance was irritating him or if it was merely highlighting the self-loathing that he felt in regards to the way he had treated her. In truth, Arthur wanted nothing more than for her to scream at him, to tell him that she hated him and call him every name that found its way to her. He just wanted her to do _something_. To say something. Before the princess had returned to Camelot, she was nothing but a long lost memory; someone who he wouldn't recognise if she stood in front of him. Someone he didn't recognise as she stood in front of him. However, the longer she had stayed, the more the years that had parted them seemed to fall away into nothingness. She was no longer a relic of the past, she was a possible future. A gentle frown creased the bridge between her eyebrows; she was mulling over something in the depths of her mind, agonising over it in excruciating detail, and Arthur realised that he would give anything to alleviate the stress. It frustrated him as he thought back to Sophia. He had no idea what he was thinking, nor what he was saying, and it seemed that he was never destined to know. How could he explain to the beautiful young woman in front of him, if he couldn't explain it to himself? The answer was obvious: _trust._ And yet, true to her nature, she refused to look at him, let alone speak to him. Then it hit him, there was one way that guaranteed a rise from her: "I arrested one of the farmer's today. He had a whole bundle of stolen blankets." Arwyn's gaze finally met his as she frowned; trying her hardest not to notice the soft glow of the flickering flames against his features. "He claimed that his sick son needed them for warmth. I'm unsure how long Father will keep him in the cells. I mean, if we find the people harbouring the druid boy, we may need to execute him to make room." As Arthur shrugged and shoved a slice of meat into his mouth, he fought a smile at the anger that was evidently brewing under the princess' skin.

"How can you speak of that with such nonchalance? You truly are an oaf." She spat, eyes as venomous as her tone. "Punishing a father for trying to save his child as the colder nights creep in, instead of being a decent human being and offering empathy! Are you really that…" A soft chuckle interrupted the scolding, causing her to glower at him through gritted teeth. "Why are you laughing?"

"You're predictable, is all."

As the young man looked up at her, eyes sparkling in the candlelight, her jaw slackened slightly and a look of realisation crossed her expression: "You made that up." She concluded, nodding slowing and returning her stare to the plate in front of her.

"It got you to speak more than a few words to me."

"You are unbearable, you know that?" Her stern stare turned petulant as she glanced up and scoffed at him. It was an expression that Arthur was sure had been reserved just for him, however, he hadn't much time to consider his theory as she launched a potato at him.

"Hey! I just had this shirt washed." He laughed as he dodged the assault, noting the tiny ghost of a smile that tugged at her lips before she banished it behind indifference once more. "I miss you." The vulnerability in his voice, took her by surprise. His eyes were almost desperate as hers softened, slightly. "Do you remember the first fight we had when we were children?" His question caused her to frown in thought before she shook her head. "Neither did I, not until the other day. We had been playing in the corridor beside the council chambers and had smashed the window. My father was furious. You blamed me and I blamed you. I pushed you and then you bit me."

Arwyn chuckled before she had the chance to catch herself, Arthur realised that it was one of his favourite sounds. "I don't remember that." She answered, almost shyly as she smiled at him for the first time in what felt like a century. "But I am sure it _was_ your fault." This time, Arthur laughed and for a moment, Arwyn looked heartbroken once more. "You are not the little boy that I remember, just as I am not the same." She whispered, almost inaudibly. "We grew up, Arthur, and for some reason the people that we became don't get along. We didn't even recognise each other when I returned and despite our best intentions, we are always fighting about something." Arthur wasn't sure what he had wanted her to say, but he was certain it wasn't that. "There's just…so much _pressure_ and we are already cracking under it."

Suddenly, the doors to her chambers swung open revealing Sir Geralt and a couple of guards. The princess' protector watched her intently as the knights informed the prince that the druid boy had escaped from the dungeons. If there was one thing that Arwyn had taken away from her political training, it was the need to mask her emotions and whilst she tried, her eyes had always given her away.

"Sound the warning bell." Arthur ordered as he was told of the servant that had seen the boy entering the armoury with an accomplice. Arwyn's mind raced as she searched for a way to buy her friends a little more time. As the prince headed towards the exit, she called after him, pausing as she realised that she had no idea what to do. Frowning, Arthur searched her face: "What's wrong?"

It was now or never, she had to decide what was more important. Her pride or Morgana. Finding the decision easy, she lowered her voice and softened her stare, groaning internally. "I know that things between us are strained and I don't know how to fix it but…I don't want to lose you."

As he studied her conflicted expression, Arthur yearned to reach for her but restrained himself in front of their audience. Straightening his jacket, he matched her tone as he vowed: "I have to go but we'll talk later. I promise." Pausing only until she nodded in understanding, he ran out with his guards in tow.

The princess wasted no time as she motioned to go and warn her friends, however, a strong hand gripped her arm. "What have you done?" Sir Geralt demanded, gruffly, noting the guilt that scarred her expression as she avoided eye contact. "I am not as oblivious as you think, My Lady."

Her voice remained even as she tried to exude authority: "I have to go."

"I cannot let you do that. I will not." The greying man informed. "Uther will have your head for treason!" As he hissed at her, his expression grew worried as he feared for the young woman that he viewed as not only his charge, but his daughter. "I cannot protect you from that, Arwyn." His hands clasped her shoulders, his words rushed and urgent. "You must abandon this madness."

"He is just a boy!" Her once guilt-ridden eyes were now fuelled by a fury as she glared at the man afore her. "He has committed no crime!"

"Your Highness, I have never asked you for anything but right now, I beg of you. Please do not continue down this path."

"Unhand me." She ordered, ignoring his pleading as she tried to push him away. Fighting against him to no avail. "I have to warn them!"

Seeing that he would not win in a battle of wills, the knight stood to his full height and spoke as he strode swiftly towards the door: "I am charged with your safety, Princess. You are not leaving this room."

As the door slammed shut, the only sound that filled the chambers was the rushed footsteps of the princess as she realised his plan, and the sliding of a lock.

* * *

"It's exhausting being mad at everyone." Arwyn muttered as she stood with by the window of the prince's chambers, fiddling with a strange contraption that she had found on his table. Having only just been released from her house arrest, the princess had promptly found the King's ward after vowing to never speak to her knight again should anything have happened to one of her friends.

"Yes, well, hopefully Arthur will redeem himself." Morgana responded, she too had decided that she hated the majority of people within the kingdom.

"Do you really think he will listen to you?"

"To me, alone? I cannot say, but to both of us?"

Their questions were soon to be answered, however, as the prince strode into his bedchamber. Upon seeing the formidable pair, he sighed. A tired expression coating his features as he snapped: "Make yourself at home." whilst taking the object from Arwyn and sliding into his seat at the table.

"You can't let your father execute the boy."

"You're lucky he's not executing you!" Arthur argued, staring at his father's ward in disbelief. "Are you telling me he really was behind the screen when I came to search your chambers?"

Morgana nodded gently, glancing quickly to Arwyn who offered her a reassuring smile. Taking a deep breath, the older girl continued: "I know you believe your father's wrong to execute him."

"What I believe doesn't matter. My father's made up his mind." The prince concluded, studying the taller of the two brunettes that had ambushed him. "Whatever you're thinking, it's not going to happen."

"We have to get the boy back to his people."

"No. Forget it."

"I cannot believe that you would let an innocent child die!" Morgana bellowed at the man that had always been like a brother to her. An annoying younger brother.

"It's too late! He's been caught. I have no choice."

"There is always a choice." Arwyn interjected. Her voice was softer than she intended and yet it held the ability to capture the room. "I saw the fear in the boy's eyes and it broke my heart. No child should ever have to feel that way." Her seemed to have lost their spark as they cast themselves downwards. "I was slightly younger than him when I lost my mother and there was nothing anyone could have done to stop it…I guess, I couldn't help but see myself when I looked at him. I couldn't help but hate your father's ignorance." Arthur's hand gently edged closer to where hers rested against the dark wooden table until he grazed her pinky with his; it was a subtle show of affection, of comfort, but it had not gone unnoticed by Morgana who viewed them with a calculating expression as she fought a smile. Without recoiling from the contact, Arwyn met his gaze: "Your father orphaned him and chained him up like a prisoner because he was born to a different walk of life." Sea green eyes darted between sapphire blue. "You cannot sit there and tell me that is acceptable. That had it been you, you would have done the same thing."

"I have tried talking to my father…"

"Then perhaps the time for talking has passed." Arthur ran a hand over his face, struggling between the loyalty to his father and the fact that the princess had him wound tightly around her dainty little finger. The king's ward bit back a smirk, knowing that she had found his weakness in the form of an unyielding force with a magnetising aura and eyes that mirrored the ocean on a stormy morning. A weakness that she may be able to exploit every once and a while.

"You are asking me to betray him. _Again_."

Morgana opened her mouth to retort but thought better of it as she noted the look in the prince's eyes. His resolve was wavering and she knew that with just a little nudge, her friend would have him exactly where they wanted him; where they needed him.

"I am sorry." As the words left her mouth, the older girl's emerald eyes widened - terrified that she, too, had given up on the druid boy. However, the princess was not one to roll over at the first sign of trouble. Any sign of trouble. "But, I know that deep down you are not that man. You are kind and compassionate, and you believe in justice. After everything, if I didn't believe that, if I didn't believe in you, I would be on my way back to the Distant Isles." Arthur eyes glanced towards the table, the corner of his lips twitching slightly as Arwyn took his hand in her own. "You are going to be the best king that this land has ever seen. Do not begin that with a false hatred."

"Arwyn…"

"Please."

As the princess pleaded with him, the king's ward stepped forward and stood shoulder to shoulder with her best friend. Her hand resting on the back of a chair as she looked to Arthur, eyes begging: "If you cant do it for the boy. Do it for me."

* * *

Arwyn shivered prompting Falen to nuzzle his snout into her neck, adjusting his body slightly to shield her from the wind. Despite her thick cloak, the cold night air cut through her like icy blades as she stood, hidden at the edge of the castle grounds with her hands wrapped tightly around the reigns of her black stallion and Arthur's fawn mare. Having finally agreed to help, the prince had constructed a seemingly flawless plan. This time, it was Morgana's turn to distract the unsuspecting royal as the group had determined that there was no better alibi than the King himself. Meanwhile, Arthur was set to break the druid boy from his cells, escape through the grating with the help of Merlin (who had seemed unusually reluctant to help and suddenly very indifferent towards the child's life), and meet the princess. The pair were then set to return the boy to his people whilst Uther and Sir Geralt thought them to be away on a hunting trip in an attempt to repair their visibly strained relationship.

The plan should have been perfect.

She had no idea how long had passed but as an owl hooted in a nearby tree and Arthur's horse snorted impatiently, a growing sense of panic crept in. Suddenly the clamour of the warning bells echoed through the kingdom. Hooves thundered as she mounted Falen and raced to the iron grate, pulling the mare with them.

"Where's Merlin?" Arthur hissed as she arrived at the opposite side of the iron that held them captive.

Glancing around with a sense of urgency, she rushed: "I don't know. What do I do?" She asked, pulling uselessly at the metal bars.

"I need you to find a grappling hook."

"Where?"

"You'll need to get back into the castle."

Arwyn's eyes widened at the absurd idea: "Arthur, there is no time for that! You'll be caught."

"Then you have to go." His voice was steady and a lot calmer than he felt.

"I won't leave you." Determination oozed out of her as she stared at him, eyes flickering momentarily to the young druid boy; fear was evident in his widened blue eyes causing the princess to huff and run a hand through her hair. "Where is he?!"

Merlin's voice soon rang out in the darkness as he ran towards them, almost tripping over the rope that trailed from the hook in his hand: " I'm here!"

"I worried that you had abandoned us."

"I uh…had trouble getting out of the castle." The servant responded, unconvincingly, as he helped the young woman secure the rope to her horse before swiftly nudging him into a brief run, forcing him to pull the grate from the wall.

As the prince and the boy mounted his horse, and the princess retrieved Falen before joining them, Arthur turned to Merlin: "Remember, if my father asks, Arwyn and I are set to return from our hunt in the morning. Now, make yourself scarce before he executes you in the boy's place."

* * *

Having successfully returned the boy (who they found to be named Mordred) to his people, the young royals began their journey back to Camelot. It was the first time in a number of days that Arwyn could allow herself to relax slightly. Her muscles ached from carrying the heavy weight of their lies, and she was alerted to her lack of sleep as a rough yawn escaped her lips. The trek back had been relatively quiet; the prince evidently lost in his thoughts, leaving Arwyn with her own for company.

"You said that you didn't want to lose me. Was that a lie? All a part of Morgana's plan?" Arthur finally spoke, his voice void of emotion and rather unsettling. "What you said to me in my chambers, did you mean any of that or was that just another manipulation?"

"I have meant every word that I have ever said to you." The brunette answered, simply, eyes still trained to the dark path ahead.

"Even when you told me that you hated me?"

"At the time, I meant it…or at least half of me did."

"And now?"

Arthur watched as she sighed heavily and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, shrugging as she shook her head with a helpless expression. There was no avoiding the conversation any longer: "You hurt me, Arthur. You may be the most obnoxiously frustrating person that I have ever met but when I was grieving, it was you that I wanted." She spoke, her voice wavering slightly, forcing her to clear her throat and take a deep breath to save face. "Not Sir Geralt, not Merlin nor Morgana. You. And you humiliated me in front of your father and then again in front of the entire court! If it hadn't been for Gaius, I would have left Camelot that night and never returned. I never wanted to see you again because every time I thought of you, it hurt." Her eyes found his in the moonlight as they brought the horses to a slower walk. "Arthur, I care about you, and I am still unsure if I should leave whilst that is still the truth, or if I should risk growing to resent you."

"You can't leave." His voice finally spoke, breaking the heavy silence that had descended upon them; nothing but their thoughts accompanied by the soft crunching of hooves against the mud-trodden tracks of the forest. Her expression remained passive as she stared in front of her, unwilling to argue further. "Arwyn, look at me." The gentleness of his tone caught her by surprise, her hair falling against her shoulder as she turned to look at him. "I know that there is nothing I could say that would excuse anything that happened but I will spend every moment I can trying to make it up to you." His bright blue eyes were sincere and pleading; an unusual look for him. "I will even stop using Merlin for target practice because I know you hate it." In the moonlight, a sliver of smile tugged at her lips as tears threatened to ruin her tough façade. "Just…Please don't run away. Forget what our fathers want. If you never want to marry me then that is okay, just don't marry someone who you feel nothing for. Someone who doesn't care for your temper, regardless of how infuriating you're being, or someone who doesn't wake up in the morning and wonder what you dreamt about. I don't care if you were lying to keep me for finding Morgana, I am not. I can't promise you that you will fall in love with me, and I can't promise that this pressure that we feel will go away but I don't want to lose you."

"A bear that kept stealing Sir Leon's jester hat."

"What?" After years of knowing her, Arthur thought that nothing could surprise him; that was until something like that came out of her mouth.

"That's what I dreamt about last night."

A laugh bubbled in his chest and broke the tension between them. Shaking his head, he rebutted: "On second thought, go. Marry the first person you find who is willing to put up with whatever is going on in that head of yours." The prince grinned at her as she laughed, eyes sparkling again when she looked at him. "Race you to the gates?" Arthur asked as they smiled at each other, before speaking her response in unison with her: "Will you never tire of losing?" and earning a playful scowl. He grinned once more. "See? Predictable."

"That's what makes me so charming."

"Well, something has to."


	11. CHAPTER 10

Chapter 10: Excalibur

 **Disclaimer: I do not own BBC's Merlin, their characters nor their plot. I do however own the Princess Arwyn and Sir Geralt. Their character and story arcs remain my intellectual property.**

The candlelight flickered against the stone walls of the Hall of Ceremonies. The vast space full of onlookers. As Arthur recited his vows and was crowned with the official title of Crowned Prince, his gaze wandered to the princess as she stood beside his father's ward. The golden dress that clothed her seemed to glow in the flickering light of the candelabras and yet, she still shone through it. Feeling his gaze, a gentle smile on her pink lips as she bowed her head slightly; eyes cast downwards as a blush glittered her cheeks. Finally meeting his gaze, she held it; sea-green glistening with unspoken affection.

However, the moment was soon snapped to an end as the large stained-glass window shattered inwards. Eyes widened in fright and gasps reverberated throughout the hall as a knight in battle-worn black armour atop a midnight black steed, appeared before them. In the midst of the terror as the black knight moved closer, the prince found himself searching for her; allowing himself piece of mind for just one moment before jumping to the defence of the kingdom. As their eyes met once more, concern flitted across her expression, however, it was soon locked behind her political training before she was blocked from his sight by her protector who drew his blade.

A metallic twang echoed in the heavy silence as the stranger tossed his gauntlet to the feet of the prince. Arwyn's hand clutched at the arm of her guard as she watched Arthur sheath his sword and move to retrieve the discarded glove, only releasing her grip when another knight stepped forward to accept the challenge.

"I, Sir Owain, accept your challenge."

As the black knight spoke, his voice was almost inhuman: "Single combat. Noon tomorrow. To the death."

* * *

Her mind was in overdrive. Perhaps it was due to the residue of fear that remained in her veins or perhaps it was a symptom of her penchant for curiosity. Perhaps it was merely its new-found state. Her handmaiden followed her as she paced, trying and ultimately failing to brush the day from her brunette curls. Soon, her voice rung out, calling for the knight that guarded her door. His heavy boots scuffed the stone floor as he entered the cosy chambers, smiling in sympathy at the extremely patient handmaiden as she bowed her head to him.

"He has been standing there all night." The princess spoke, attention on the knight that stood motionlessly in the courtyard below her window. "Does he not sleep?" She asked, however upon receiving no answer, she turned to look at her guard; his expression passive. "Do you recognise the crest on his shield?"

"No."

"Who is he?"

"I don't know, My Lady."

"How did he get into the citadel without alerting the guards to his presence?" As Arwyn continued with her inquiry, Sir Geralt's brow crinkled; his usual stony expression thwarted as he pondered the white phoenix that brandished the shield. He had seen it once before. A long time ago. "Surely, I am not the only one who finds him odd? Why…"

"Princess!" His groan was gruff as he briefly rubbed his temple before meeting her searching stare. "Whilst I find your curiosity endearing, it is getting late." The older man informed, clapping the young girl's shoulder and ordering; "Get some sleep."

Closing the chambers' door behind him as he exited the chambers, the Knight of the Distant Isles was met by a rather forlorn looking Arthur leaving the Lady Morgana's chambers. Glancing up that the sound of footsteps, the prince glanced up.

"How is she?" He asked, nodding towards the thick wooden door over the man's shoulder.

"Talking my ear off."

The men smiled at the thought of the young woman and her tenacity when it came to quenching her wonder. Shaking his head, Arthur chuckled lightly; "Sounds about right. She is too curious for her own good."

"That she is." Sir Geralt agreed, nodding. As his dark eyes studied the prince in front of him, he noted the deep purple rings that hung under eyes that dulled with regret. "You look exhausted, Sire. Get some sleep."

* * *

Death had become a spectacle in Camelot. Whether it was due to boredom or a morbid curiosity, any event that may result in the loss of life held the kingdom captive in a buzz of excitement. Townsfolk and noblemen alike would dress in their best attire to stand and cheer as another soul was wiped from the earth in a bloody and gruesome manner. Today was no different.

Hundreds of eyes were glued to the battle at the centre of the tournament grounds. The clashing of metal mingling with the occasional chatter that wove through the stands. The outcome uncertain for the most part of the afternoon's entertainment. Until Sir Owain hit the sandy blanket beneath him. Gasps shook the stands as the black knight's blade ended his life. Time frozen for every being except the small red favour that Morgana had gifted; the breeze freeing it from the constraints of the Camelot chainmail as the final breath floated from the young man's lips.

A tight grip on her right hand drew her attention to the older girl beside her; emerald eyes widened in horror as the colour drained from an already pale complexion. Squeezing her friend's hand in gentle reassurance, the princess' regretful gaze was pulled to the stranger as he once again tossed his gauntlet to the feet of the royals. Time seemed to slow, reluctant to push onwards as the prince rose to his feet. Arwyn's heart caught in her throat and hammered in her ears, drowning out every breath until the King's gloved hand grabbed his son's arm, holding him in place with a strength that she had never witnessed.

Another knight jumped from the stands: "I, Sir Pellinor, take up the challenge."

Death would live to be a spectacle once more.

* * *

His breath was a mist in front of his face as he navigated the crypts beneath the castle, guided only by the flaming torch in his right hand. Adjusting his gloved grip, he paused in front of a stony pile; a deep frown darkening his expression and his scarred lips curling as his near black eyes fell on the ruins of what once was a sealed tomb. Hushed voices pricked his ears, forcing him to extinguish his torch and delve into the shadows, his hand firmly on the hilt of his sword; hearing trained, breathing shallow and eyes darting through the darkness.

As the footsteps drew nearer still he stepped out, his sword to the neck of the intruder. However, as the young man squeaked in fright, the knight sighed in what could have been misinterpreted as relief. Sheathing his sword, he turned his gaze to the older of the two, his face pensive.

"You recognised the crest." The court physician concluded, watching as the battle-worn man nodded once in confirmation.

"The tomb is empty." As Merlin's voice cut through the heavy silence, Sir Geralt's stare landed on him.

His expression as stoic as ever as he drawled: "Nothing gets past you." Gaius smiled at his ward as the knight raised a brow, unimpressed that the boy should waste breath of pointing out the obvious. However, the physician's brow soon furrowed as all eyes fell on the empty tomb of Tristian de Bois. The knight was the brother of Ygraine, Arthur's mother, and had died after challenging Uther to single combat for he blamed the King for the death of his sister. As his lungs had deflated for the last time, the raging man had cursed the kingdom to face his return. Sir Geralt examined some dust between his fingertips as he spoke almost hauntingly, "I know sorcery when I see it." He alerted his companions, raising his dark as night eyes to meet the bright blue of the servant. Holding his gaze for a moment too long before turning to the man that he had known a long time ago. "We are dealing with a wraith."

"How do we stop it?"

Gaius shook his head lightly, as he uttered the words that the boy feared the most: "We can't. Nothing can stop it until it has achieved what it came for."

Ever the optimist, the knight stood tall and eyed the pair in front of him solemnly: "Each and every knight who stands against him will fall on his sword."

* * *

Her guardian's overbearing protection had become all too much for the young princess by the time that the sun had reached its peak in the afternoon skies. And so, to avoid further suffocation, she had slipped away to a place that had been a prominent feature of her summers as a child. A place that had often formed her solitude and allowed escape from the pressures that her political position had placed on such young shoulders. The large oak tree at the edge of the city walls. However, as the shadow of the large trunk shielded her from the sunlight, she realised that she was not alone.

The prince's eyes were stony as they stared at the grass in front of him. His back against the tree that the pair used to climb as children. His jaw tense with anger and frustration, his hands knotted together. For a fraction of a second, Arwyn was unsure if he had even noticed her presence and debated leaving him alone until he wordlessly moved over, making room for her to sit. Nervously smoothing her skirts, the princess lowered herself to sit on the cool blades of grass. It was no secret that the prince could be a nuclear weapon when agitated enough…and no secret that she would be highly hypocritical for calling him out on it.

Birdsong drifted through the breeze around them as the world hung heavily around them. Silence swamped them; neither comfortable nor uneasy.

"It's not your fault, you know." Arwyn muttered after a moment or two, her words almost lost in the rustling of the leaves above them; her eyes cast downwards to her right hand as it picked at the fingernails on her left. His eyes were as blue as the sky as he turned his head to look at her for the first time, a solemn expression paining his face as he picked at the grass between them. "Owain knew the risks, as does Sir Pellinor."

"He shouldn't have stopped me." was all he said.

Pursing her lips and sighing gently through her nose, the young woman considered him - the way his brow creased in the centre of his forehead, the tendon just above his right eye as it clenched with each unwanted emotion. "Arthur, your father was protecting you. As are the knights."

"The challenge was mine to take."

"Is it so hard to believe that people would lay down their life for you?" She asked, frowning lightly as she turned herself to face him. "That people care? You can't punish them for that." As he sighed heavily, she grazed his hand with her own. Catching her pinky as she removed the contact he guided her back to him, softly entwining his fingers with hers; a gentle smile tugging at the corner of his lips, despite himself. "What?"

Arthur shook his head, gaze firmly on the way that her fingers fit between his. "Nothing." He murmured, shaking his head once more. "You just…always find a way to get through to me."

"You mean through your foul mood and insufferable attitude?" As she nudged his shoulder with her own, he smiled once more. Something that he found himself doing a lot around her - when she wasn't irritating him relentlessly. As his study of their hands came to its conclusion, his mind was filled with thoughts of a subject that they had never broached in a mature manner. A subject that, as they grew older, was begging for attention. As always, she was watching him. Watching as the wheels of thought spun behind his eyes, evident in his expression as he concentrated. "What are you thinking about?" She finally asked, pulling him from whatever was consuming him and prompting him to look up at her with a serious expression.

"I want to make this work." His tone took her by surprise, however, as she rose a brow in question, he averted his gaze once more. "If you chose me. I would want to make the marriage work." Her lips parted ever-so-slightly as she stared at him, wide-eyed. It was the very first time that they had acknowledged their families' plans without attempting to manipulate each other. After what felt like a lifetime, Arthur continued: "This is not me asking." He confirmed, glancing at her and waiting for her to blink so as to alert him that she hadn't been magically frozen in place. Finally, she nodded agonisingly slowly as he cleared his throat. "I just…I just wanted you to know." He chuckled nervously before clearing his throat twice more, the tips of his ears suddenly taking on a rather deep shade of pink.

"I'm not as naive as your father thinks." The princess spoke after a lifetime of silence. "I am aware that I have a duty to my people. That I am required to find a good match to secure their future." Sighing lightly, her gaze wandered across the horizon. "I don't know…" Arthur squeezed her hand ever-so-slightly as she shook her head, trying to remove the confusion that clouded it. "When I was young, I watched my mother and father fall further in love with each other every moment of every day. I could never imagine how that felt but as I grew up, I knew that I wanted that."

"As do I." His gaze returned to her, unable to stray for long. His deep cerulean eyes noting the way the corner of her lip twitched with the ghost of a smile. "I like to think that its not too out of reach. That given enough time, it may be possible."

"Perhaps, my father wasn't so wrong when he sent me here."

"Perhaps not."

Another silence settled over the pair as the sun grew lower in the sky. Their eyes met, holding each other captive as gentle smiles danced across their lips. Suddenly, Arwyn pulled her hand away and stood up: "I don't suppose that we can hide forever." She alerted, smoothing her skirts. "Whilst I am sure that the castle is relishing in the reprieve from you, someone is bound to be looking for _me_."

"Oh would you look at that, you made me forget why I like you." As he rolled his eyes, Arthur rose from his spot; fighting a grin as she beamed up at him. Offering his arm to her, he smiled lightly as she took it, her grasp gentle yet anchoring. The breeze grew colder around them, forcing her to step a little closer as they made their way back to the castle, enjoying the tranquillity and in no hurry as the sun began to fade.

However, as they ventured closer to the citadel, real life yanked them back to captivity. Sir Geralt's figure soon became visible as he stormed towards the young pair, causing them to immediately jump away from each other in feigned disinterest.

"Your Highness!" Arwyn winced at her guard's stern bark as he stomped to within a few feet of her. "I have been looking everywhere for you. You shirk all your responsibilities and disappear for the best part of the day and tell no one where you are going!"

Out of the corner of his eye, the prince watched at the young girl sighed. A flitting bout of guilt flew through his mind as he noted the darkened frown of disapproval on the ageing knight's expression and so he muttered: "I am sorry if I kept you too long and got you into trouble."

"When am I not in some form of trouble?" A mischievous glint shone bright in her eyes as she leaned closer to him and whispered, "If you don't see me tomorrow, send help." As he grinned at her, Arthur realised that he wasn't sorry. Not one bit. He enjoyed her company, loved her little quirks and the way that she seemed to view everything entirely differently to him (even if it was also the most infuriating thing about her), though pride would never allow him to tell her that. His gaze followed her as she slipped away after the man with the rather stern expression piercing his greying brow.

When silence had grown too much, Sir Geralt sighed and turned to the young woman that he loved as if she were his own: "Although I am pleased that you and Arthur are getting along…I don't want you running around unattended."

"I wasn't unattended."

"You didn't have a guard."

"I was with Arthur." As she argued, she noticed the tendon in the man's temple tense before he took a breath and looked at her once more; forcing her to mask her amusement.

Sir Geralt sighed. "Whilst I am sure that the prince would not allow any harm to come to you, you are my responsibility. How am I to fulfil my duty to you and your father when you do not respect that? First, you manipulate the king after you aided Arthur in disobeying him, and then you commit high treason by helping that boy, your father would…" His lecture halted as the princess cursed under her breath - the seasoned hunter's hearing picking up on every word. "And how many times do I have to tell you that is no way for a princess to speak?"

Arwyn narrowed her eyes, shooting a glare at him before smiling calculatingly. "What's got you so rattled?" She asked, words thick with sarcasm as she continued: "Correct me if I am wrong but you claimed to know nothing of this mysterious knight and yet, since his arrival, you seem _very_ concerned…that's unusual for you, don't you think?"

As she smiled, sea green eyes widened with feigned innocence, the knight shook his head. His jaw clenched as his nostrils flared, mildly irritated by the fact that she knew exactly which buttons to push.

"Go to your chambers." He growled, earning a joyful laugh from the girl.

* * *

The crowd was silent as the Black Knight battered his sword against Sir Pellinor's shield. Relentless and unyielding. The only sound was the clashing of metal on wood until, finally the knight of Camelot began to fight back. As he blocked the blows then swung his blade, the crowd of onlookers erupted into cheers of support. Spurred on by his peers, the evenly matched battle swung in Sir Pellinor's favour, brewing hope in the minds of all who viewed it. Suddenly, the steel blade run through the Black Knight. However, as the man beneath the armour remained on his feet, many questioned if it was just a trick of the high noon sunlight. Frowned whispers of concern echoed through the arena before they were sliced into nothingness. Silence descended as the opposing knight took advantage of the disbelief, cutting the man who had bravely pledged his life to Camelot down as if he were made of butter.

The princess' brow rose to her hairline as the stranger planted his sword in Sir Pellinor's chest before standing tall and turning to the royal box afore him. The regret that marred her delicate features was suffocated by shock as an all too familiar gauntlet flew to the feet of the Black Knight. The world fell into slow motion as if time itself had succumbed to the grief that the next words spoken would cause. As her eyes glided up to the prince, who stood defiantly beside his father, her breath strangled her as it latched in her throat. His lips moved in challenge yet his words were drowned out by the sound of her own heart as it battered her eardrums.

Arthur was going to die.

* * *

The stone floor of her chambers grew thin as she paced relentlessly across it; etching lines of worry on the ancient slabs as the sun disappeared, leaving nothing but shadows and an impending feeling of doom in its place. Goosebumps littered her bare arms as she shivered, though the crackling fire had ensured that she was not cold. Her mind raced through a thousand ways that she could put an end to this foolish challenge, only to come up empty each and every time. Finally, the silence had grown to be too much for her. Making her way to the door, she glanced down the corridor before tiptoeing out. The adrenaline that shook her hands had guided her feet to his chambers, faster than she had known possible.

"I'm trying to warn you, Arthur." The eerily quiet corridors carried Merlin's desperate tone to her as she approached the door. Clearly not alone in her fear for the young Pendragon.

"And I'm trying to warn you, Merlin!" Arwyn's heart momentarily leapt into her throat as she watched Arthur swing his sword at the serving boy's head; unsure whether it was the action itself, his tone, or the murderous look in his eye that had caused the subtle hint of fear. However, as the boy that the princess had grown very fond of ran past her with an expression of hurt, that feeling was immediately quashed and replaced with anger. Upon hearing her footsteps, Arthur glanced up at her. "I don't want to hear it."

"And if I refuse to listen are you going to swing that at my head too?" Her lips pursed slightly as she tilted her head and raised a brow challengingly. Her tone sharp and scolding.

Arthur sighed roughly, discarding his blade on the table: "I am not in the mood, Arwyn."

"Look at him." An order not a suggestion nor a request. Her words went unacknowledged until she grabbed his hand - the motion alone throwing him off-guard, just enough to allow her to pull him to the window. " _Actually_ , look at him."

"Everyone has a weakness." He mumbled futilely, unsure whether he was trying to convince her or himself.

"Except he is not human! He cant be! Everyone saw Sir Pellinor's blade pierce him and yet he walked away without so much as a scratch." Frustration was bubbling in the base of her chest. Fighting a losing battle. Swimming upstream. "You are wiser than you allow us to believe, Arthur. Don't fight him."

As he sighed in near defeat, he ran his fingers through his hair, pacing back and forth in front of her. Finally, he spoke, teeth clenched with forced restraint: "I said that I didn't want to hear it."

"And I said don't fight him." Her voice matched his in conviction, rising above him as a fire lit within her ocean eyes. "You are so concerned about proving your courage that you are ignoring all counsel and running to your death!"

"I don't want to hear it! Not from you."

"Why not?"

His hair swept at his eyelashes as he spun around to her, his face a deep scarlet as he bellowed: "Because you will change my mind!" Arwyn blinked in surprise but did not shrink away from him. As his icy glare released her, her eyes slid down to his hands; his fists clenched tightly, fingernails biting at his palms. Taking a deep breath, she held her position - standing tall with authority as she met his stormy stare steadily. He sighed and once again, his hands ran over his face and through his hair. "I have to do this. It is my duty."

Whilst the prince lowered his voice, the princess did not as she stared at him incredulously and proclaimed: "Forget duty!"

"Camelot does not deserve a coward as their king and if you wish to be queen you would do well to understand that and learn to support me."

Her expression alone was enough to make him wince. Pink lips pinched as her arms crossed tightly across her chest. Every muscle in her body visibly tensed as if putting up its defences. No, Arwyn was never one to accept such treatment. Never one to allow anyone to manipulate her with power, to ask her to compromise her own values for the sake of a shiny gold crown. Her chest puffed out almost in synchrony with her cheeks as the reddened and her eyes grew stormy with indignation.

"Camelot does not deserve the idiot that it is set to inherit either." She barked, her tone venomous with a glare to match. "And as for Queen, you needn't worry. I have far too much self-respect to condemn myself to a lifetime of belittlement and ignorance whilst you chase this ridiculous fantasy of dying a hero." As she pointed a finger at him, she spat: "You are a fool, Arthur Pendragon, and it will be the death of you." Before striding past him and out of his chambers, pausing only to slam the door with as much force as she could muster.

Abandoned, the prince clenched his jaw and bit his tongue. After a split second of an internal argument, he cursed under his breath and raced to the door with the intention of finding her. However, as he swung the door open, he was faced with a rather defeated looking princess.

"I'm sorry." She sighed, as if the word physically pained her. "You're just so…" A growl vibrated in her chest as she shook her head in frustration, wringing her hands together.

"Come in and close the door before the rumours start about why the princess is in my chambers late at night. Especially after we run off together this afternoon."

"You know what? I revoke my apology."

Arthur grinned brightly, "You can't. I've already heard it." His eyes studied her as she glanced around the chambers, the forced collectedness barely masking her self-doubt. In that moment she looked entirely different to the fiery young woman that he had just witnessed - the one who would try and make herself look taller right before she scolded him for something menial: her lips forming a thin line and her hands firmly on her hips. "For what it is worth, I am sorry too. That was…unnecessary."

Nodding lightly, she bounced on the balls of her feet as if unsure what to say; only knowing that she hadn't wanted to leave things with the slamming of a door. Walking past him and deeper into the room, she pursed her lips and took a deep breath before turning back to him. "I'm worried, Arthur. This time isn't like all the other times that I ask you to be careful. I feel like everyone is keeping something from us; your father, Gaius…Sir Geralt. Even Merlin knows something…he just outright avoids me when he worries that he will tell me something that he shouldn't" Finally taking a breath, Arwyn glanced at her feet before making her way to the windowsill. Sea green eyes finding the source of her anxiety. Feeling Arthur's presence beside her, she muttered: "If I tell you something, do you promise not to laugh? Or ridicule me."

"I would never laugh at you." Nothing but an eyebrow raised in response. "Alright…from this moment on, I will never laugh at you. I mean, how hard can it be? You aren't very funny." The prince smiled as she nudged his shoulder with hers; gaze still firmly trained on the Black Knight in the courtyard below. "Come on, talk to me…or we can go back to shouting at each other?"

"It is easier…" The admission was not unexpected. It was true that the pair had many a thing frustrating them and it was also true that they often took it out on each other; after all, caged emotion was like wildfire - growing uncontrollable unless extinguished early. "I don't know what is going on with everyone but I know that it has something to do with this fight tomorrow." Arwyn alerted him. The secret late night meetings, the suffocating security and the absence of one of her best friends, had not gone unnoticed by the young woman. Sighing inaudibly, she turned to look at the man that her father had hoped she would one day marry. A mere few inches between them as she set aside her pride and whispered: "I'm scared, Arthur." Peeling sea green from sapphire blue, she chewed the inside of her cheek and toyed with her hands. Another deep breath suggesting to the prince that she was physically pained by the utterance of her next words. "I'm scared that you're going to leave me. We might fight all of the time but I…"

"I know." His voice was almost inaudible as he nodded, gingerly moving a strand of auburn hair from her face. Briefly closing her eyes, she subconsciously leant into his touch as Arthur rested his forehead on hers whilst all their feelings fought with all their might to remain unspoken. "Me too."

* * *

Her hands trembled ever so slightly as she sat in the stands. Her stomach rolling over itself whilst her knees bounced in anticipation. Her tongue ran over her lips before pulling them into her dry mouth; over and over again as her clenched her fist to control the tremor. Morgana glanced out the corner of her eye at her younger girl, noting the knots of worry on her brow and the way she wrung her hands together. Feeling her stare, Arwyn offered her a tight-lipped smile, only sitting at peace when the King's ward wrapped her hands in her own.

Minutes felt like hours until finally, a figure approached from the direction of the armoury. Iron-clad and carrying a helmet and a blade. Whispers of confusion soon rippled through the crowd of onlookers as the man drew nearer, revealing the King.

"You can have what you came for." The aged man announced to the mysterious Black Knight. "The father. Not the son." As his words reached her ears, Arwyn let out a breath of relief. All tension seemingly disappeared as her eyes closed briefly. No, it was not that she did not care for the King's well-being, it was just… _different._ Perhaps a lot more different than she would ever be willing to admit.

When the first sword was swung, it was obvious to anyone watching that this was personal. The strange knight fought harder than anyone had seen before, ferocious in his attacks. Morgana's grip on her hand grew tighter as Uther began to match his opponent; finally nicking the helmet from his head.

Gasps of disgust and fear echoed in the afternoon breeze as a skull taut with rotting flesh was revealed to all. However, shock was no obstacle for the Black Knight as the mummified man took that moment to throw the King to the dust. Worry spread through the crowd like a disease, festering as the Pendragon blocked each relentless blow with his shield. A battle of wills and endurance. Within the blink of an eye, the tables had turned and the king was on his feet, thrusting a blade into the torso of the monster afore him.

As the black knight burst into flames and exploded into nothingness, the crowd erupted into cheers of victory. And in a cloud of thick black smoke, it seemed as if Camelot was safe once more.

* * *

Author's Note: Okay, so I am not happy with the end of this chapter and truly apologise for that. I struggled with writing this episode purely because of the amount of fight scenes (something I need to work on) and the fact that Arwyn has no idea that Merlin has magic and so was not involved in a large portion of the events in _Excalibur_. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoyed at least some of the chapter! Please do let me know what you think, the feedback is very much appreciated.


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